Just Like Me
by Firesblood
Summary: AU after first chapter, R/J pairing. Riddick goes to Crematoria to get Jack, and discovers that maybe him leaving did more damage than him staying might have done. What will happen when two animals come together to try and stop the Necros instead of one
1. Chapter 1, Part 1

**Disclaimer-I do not own anything you recognize, plain flat out. I am not making money off of this, nor will I ever make any money off of this. **

**A/N: This story is rated MA for language, violence, and possible (very possible) sexual content in later chapters that may or may not be posted. Later chapters will most definately be posted depending on the reaction and enjoyment of the readers (you). If there is no reviews or nobody expresses their wish for this fic to continue, it will be a one-shot and you will all have to use your imagination on how it ends. This Fic will be a Riddick/Jack pairing, AU after this chapter, and please keep in mind that this is my first ever Riddick fic and I have no Beta, so don't be too harsh -smile-. Anyone who wants to be my Beta, let me know and you will have the privilage of setting eyes on the future chapters before anybody else -wink- I hope you enjoy it! **

**Just Like Me**

**_A story by Firesblood_**

Hoped I'd never find myself in this situation again. Knew it would happen sooner or later if I wasn't careful. That's what happens when you stick your neck out for someone and start feelin' shit. Could blame it on _her_, but I knew who made the decision in the end.

Dropped little Jack and the holy man off on New Mecca. Told her to be good, keep her eyes open and her senses sharp. Told her to watch her back 'cause you never knew who could be behind you. Then, I took off. I could still hear her screamin' at the ship, see her running as I left, beggin' me not to leave her behind. Almost got to me. Not quite, though. I knew if I stayed they wouldn't be safe. She wouldn't be safe. There would always be mercs. There'd always be someone wantin' to get a piece of me, and she would be the easiest way to do it. It was best if she just forgot. Knew she wouldn't, though. Kids like her never forget. I should know; I never forgot. We never forgive either.

I guess that's why I wasn't surprised when Imam told me she never forgave me for leavin'. Too much like me. Then she came lookin' for me. Probably signed on with mercs. They would have been the easiest to attract if she stuck her thumb out. Fuckin' mercs. Worse then murderers and convicts. They can get away with just about anything they want if they blame it on the payday. Can't count how many crimes got tacked onto my list that didn't really happen. Rapes and murders. Never raped in my life. I eat bastards like that slowly for breakfast while their hearts are still beatin'.

Then Imam tells me she's in Crematoria. Fuckin' no daylight triple max slam, the kind of slam where real killers like me go. Place where a woman could get eaten alive in two hours or less, unless she knew how to take care of herself. Even then, one woman against a group of desperate men's hardly a fair fight, and everyone gets tired sooner or later.

Everything after that happened fast. One minute we're talkin' 'bout Necros, the next they're fuckin' landin'. Imam broken in the plaza below, the smell of his blood attacking from every direction. Killing that fucker with the knife in his back, then gettin' my mind ripped apart by starvin' bitches covered in drape cloth, runnin' my ass out of there...I knew I couldn't win this time around and I still had shit to take care of.

Toombs and his dumb ass along with four more skittish fuckers findin' me on the road. One's a woman this time. Tight muscles, tanned, sexy as hell when sweat-slick. Grinds her teeth in her sleep. Wonder what she's dreamin'. Probably nothin' fit for innocent eyes.

We dock and they strap me to a sled. The big fucker sits with me. Cocky fucker has the nerve to tell me that my goggles are his after this. Only reason he's even talkin' to me is 'cause my arms are locked in above my head. I start countin' lights, timen 'em. A lift of my hips and he's long gone, tumblin' along the tracks behind us. Seems like I did Toombs a favor.

We get to the station and they start lowering me down. I got a good look at the area before they strapped me and let me down. This will be too easy. Fumes from the sulphur steam burn my nose. Nasty as fuck down here. At least the air was breathable in the other Slams I've landed my ass in. The prisoners start bangin' shit on the rails, announcing the arrival of new meat. Same everywhere you go. It's supposed to be some sort of intimidation thing, a way for everyone to get a good look at what's droppin' in. I've seen hard core killers piss themselves at that sound and the eyes trained on 'em. The rope stops with a jerk and I can hear Toombs arguing about my payday.

"I'd take the money, Toombs!" I shout to him. If the bastard knows whats good for him, he'll just take it and get out. He's leavin' a wide open invitation for me. Once I find Jack, if she's still alive, we'll be headin' straight for that ship. Course, I know Toombs ain't gonna listen. I'm countin' on it. Me telling him to take it just makes it solid. Mercs don't listen to paydays. If anything, they like to do exactly the opposite.

They start lowerin' me again. 'Bout fuckin' time. Grounds getting closer and the clangin' sounds gettin' on my nerves. Moment my feet touch the ground, it'll stop and the real fun'll begin.

The rope jerks to a stop again and I look up. Arguin' again. This is gettin' fuckin' annoying. Guess I'm gonna have to take matters into my own hands. After a few moves with the rope, I manage to free myself and land on my feet. Almost immediately I got people on my ass. One down, and then another one. I can hear a third one comin' at my back. The rattle of a chain as I turn to take care of him and the sound of a neck breakin' rings in my ears. Music, pure and sweet. I watch the links of the chain retreat, follow 'em up to a woman. Long hair, more curls than waves, or at least it would be if it wasn't so dirty. Beautiful. Her eyes have the look of a predator. I feel the animal in me rear up, yelling at me to take her someplace a little more private. I silence it…for now.

Her smell reaches me and I inhale. Sweat, sulpher, blood. Underlying scent of spice that was all Jack. Never could forget that scent.

She stands from her crouch and backs away. I watch her disappear into a dark niche where I can't see her and the beast protests.

"There are inmates, and there are convicts…" some big fucker, the leader I'm guessin', starts in with the standard speech. Heard that before too. All the fuckin' same. He asks me which one I am, and I reply with the truth.

"Me? I'm just passin' through." I walk away, still starin' at the spot where Jack disappeared.

I follow her scent up the walk and down the way, to a small cell. Jack's singular smell permeates the area. A small stone shelf with a blanket barely big enough to cover one of my arms, a pile of dirty clothes, stiff with sweat and dirt off to the side, and one or two pairs of pants and a shirt hangin off the bars. Smell like sulphur and minerals, still damp from the washin', looks like. A small pile of rags are hidden' behind the sleeping shelf that smell like the sulphur mineral water, with a strong undertone of blood. A few stains of blood on the floor, and even a few other spots that look suspiciously like some fucks ejaculation. The very thought of it on Jack's cell floor angers me, and I grit my teeth. It takes control not to think of why it's there and what might have happened.

I hear a sound behind me and feel two points press into my back, the feel of warm breath on my neck. Spices. Sweat. Blood. Jack.

"Should I go for the sweet spot? Fourth lumbar down left of the spine, the abdominal aeorta? What a gusher…" I hear her say. Voice is low and sweet, husky like a woman in the middle of a seduction act. Beautiful. I feel her shift behind me and I look to my other side where I feel her breath return on me.

"Where do I get eyes like those?" she asks with mock curiousity, like she's tryin' to confirm to me that she is who I think she is. Already know Jack. Nobody smells like you. But, I decide to humor her.

"You gotta kill a few people." I reply, not hidin' the amusement I feel. I hear the short breath of her laugh.

"Did that." She says bitterly. "Did a lot of that!" I don't like the tone in her voice. Sounds dangerous. I feel the points dig harder into my back and I reach back, grabbing her. I swing her around and pin her up against the wall with her wrists in my hand.

"Then you gotta get sent to a slam—"

"Where they tell you'll never see daylight again? But there was no doctor here to shine my eyes, not even for twenty menthol Kools! Was anything that you said true?" she asked bitterly, glaring. My other arm goes between her legs and lifts her up a bit further, so I can look into her eyes better.

"Whatcha gonna do?" she asked, avoiding my eyes. "Go for the sweet spot?" she lowers her voice, but I can hear the pain, and I know what she means by 'sweet spot'. I feel the anger in me grow.

"Remember who you're talkin' too…Jack…" I say her name after a pause, lookin' for a reaction on her face. She looks away from me, struggling against my hold.

"Jack's dead." She says, her voice strained and slightly muffled. I feel the crotch of her pants dampen a little and smell arousal. The scent is intoxicating, and I can't help but look down. My hand is so close. All I would have to do is let go of the bar and move my hand back towards me a little bit. Animal is screamin' again. Tellin' me to just rip the rags off her back already and take her there. The pheromones she's lettin' off enough of is enough of a confirmation for it. I silence it again. This was Jack we were talkin' about. Little Jack all grown up. Wouldn't be right no matter how much we may want it. No matter how much _he_ wants it.

"She was weak…She couldn't cut it." She continues, her voice coming through clenched teeth. She kicks out and busts the light a few feet away, and I feel a sharp pain on my cheek. I'm not easily startled, but I'd be lyin' if I said I wasn't. Enough that I let go of her.

I look around for her. She's disappeared. I turn around and find her, both hands gripping the rail and her back arched backwards and tense like a cat sweeping in for the kill.

"The name's Kyra now. And I'm a new animal." She informs me. Then, in a graceful move, she leaps off the walk.

She was right. Jack _was_ dead. Jack was a cute little girl tryin' to be a boy, who idolized me and believed I could do anything. Jack had a shaved head and wore goggles, just like me. Jack cried when I told her she couldn't come along and threw rocks at the ship. Jack was scared of the galaxy and what might happen to her if she was outside in it. Jack had nightmares and needed someone to hold her afterward and tell her everything was gonna be okay. Little Jack had been exactly like I was when I was a kid, and what took her place was exactly like what took little Rick's place. An animal that didn't know when to quit. A monster that never forgave, never forgot, and never showed weakness or mercy.

I always knew she was different from other kids I had met. I just didn't realize how different. What bothers me the most is that I was the fuckin' catalyst to all this. Sure, little Jack had it in her, but the animal called Kyra surfaced after the emotional trauma of whatever happened after I left. I thought I was savin' Jack, when all I did was help Kyra ghost her from behind.

Seems like I can't do anything right. All turns to shit in the end, like when I tried to help those kids and got my ass caught by Johns.

I reach up and touch the cut on my cheek that she gave me with the small blade in her mouth. The sight of my blood makes me react in ways I didn't know were possible. No woman had ever made me bleed before. For once, I was in silent agreement with the beast in me. Any woman that could get one up on me deserved the time of day, and special consideration. Consideration, and time I would give her, but not until after I showed her exactly what she was messin' with. Seems like she's forgotten who Big Evil is, and what Big Evil can do.

Jack…no, Kyra…has no idea what she's gotten herself into now…

_A/n: Hope you liked the first chapter! At the beginning, Riddick mentioned 'her'. He is referring to Frye, and her insistance to go back instead of leave. Please R/R, and I'll have the next chapter up soon! Thanks for reading._


	2. Chapter 1, Part 2

**_A/N: Thank you to all those who reviewed! I'm glad that you liked the first chapter. Here is the second chapter to keep you going! Also, again, this fic is rated MA for violence, language, and future sexual content. This is and will be a Riddick/Kyra (Jack) fiction and is now AU. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy the second chapter! _**

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**Just like Me**

**A Story by Firesblood**

**Chapter 2**

Took me less than an hour to walk around the whole slam. Smaller than any of the others I've been in, and hotter than hell. I stop and wash the sweat off me with the water that falls from the rocks. Probably where Kyra washes her clothes. They sent Yrgrans after the prisoners. I don't know how I know what the fuck they are or what the fuck their called, but for some reason I'm pretty sure they come from the same place I come from. I remember a face like that, peekin' at me over whatever I was layin' in, and pressin' it's nose against my face. I remember reachin' up and tuggin' on it's coat. Funny how things keep poppin' up like that lately. Hell, till a few days ago I thought I had been born on earth in Detroit, Michigan, then dumped into a trash can by some crackhead of a bitch that gave birth to me. Still not sure I don't believe that that was really what happened.

I hear a ruckus commin' from down the walk near Kyra's cell and I see a few of the prison guards file in all fuckin' big-billy-badass and shit. I can feel the beast stir in me, suddenly furious that any man would dare walk where only _I'm_ allowed to walk, just to try and touch what only _I_ can touch.

I feel myself walkin' to the cell, and watch, unnoticed, as the guards back her against the wall. I admire the animalistic grace that she moves with, her eyes watchin' everything around her, keepin' tabs on what they have and what they can used against her. Good girl. Reminds me of a snake ready to bite. I feel someone behind me and look. It's the lead convict, Eli I think. He stops at my side and watches without much interest, a tin cup in his hand filled with water.

"They cannot go a week without trying to get the prize in her pants." He comments lightly, his accent thick. Sounds like some sort of aristocratic numbnut. My bet is that he never committed a crime in his life. I'm bettin' that he knew something he shouldn't have known. I see the glint of a wedding ring. Probably his old lady that put him here. Bitch was probably on someone else's dick. He looks at me with a smile that's all sardonic and shit, and hands me the cup before leavin'. What the fuck ever.

They've got their hands on her now. I see her flinch as one of the guards feels her ass up. I grip the handle of the cup so hard I feel it mould to my fingers. The fuck moves his hand to her front and I see it start to travel down. Then, quicker than my eyes can follow, Kyra's fightin' back and the guards are droppin' like flies. Struck at the beauty of her movement, the way her body moves like it's dancing. Another dumb fuck goes down and I see blood pooling on the ground where his stomach and balls were ripped open by the bloody spikes in Kyra's shoe. Didn't notice them before now.

All too soon, her dance is cut short and she's pressed up against the wall again, the barrel of a gun pushed into her gut. The beast is roarin', itchin' to run in and rip them apart, but I got to keep a cool head. The guards are most likely used to fuckin' crazy ass murdering lunatics. A cool headed mother fucker'd scare 'em shitless.

"I'd take my wounded and go." I say as I walk into the cell. They turn to look at me and Kyra rolls her eyes, her jaw clenched. So ungrateful. I'm savin' her ass from who knows what, and she don't even have the decency to give me a small smile.

Before anything else can be said or done, though, the whole place starts shakin' and alarms start goin' off. The fuckers let her go and run out of the cell to the stairs that lead up to the big office where Toombs and his bitches are. I look back at Kyra. She's starin' at me.

"I don't need your fucking help, Riddick." She tells me. Her chin is tilted up like some haughty bitch. Same as always. Just the fuckin' words I've used before.

"That so?" I tell her, smilin' a little. I used to use this smile on her when she was a kid and said something stupid. By the flash in her eyes, she recognizes it. Instead of firin' back like she would have done years ago, she looks past me. "What the fuck was that quake?"

"No idea." I say. Obviously it doesn't happen very much, if ever. She walks past me, lookin' up. Eli appears out of nowhere at her side, touches her face like a lover would. I hear myself growl deep in my throat at that touch. _Nobody_ fuckin' touches her. _Nobody but me, you mean?_ The beast pipes up.

"Are you alright, my dear?" he asks her softly. Kyra smiles reassuringly at him. It's a nice smile, the admiring one she used to give me when she was a kid, one I find myself wishin' she'd give me again.

"I'm fine. _Riddick_," she says my name like she's cursin', "jumped in at the nick of time." Yeah. Thanks to me, your ass didn't get fucked up and down without your permission. You should be thankin' me on bended knee for savin' you, again. That's _twice_ I coulda walked away from your ass and didn't.

"What's going on?" she asks.

Eli scratches his head and looks up, just as gunfire starts go off. "Something is happening up there. Something not so good." No shit, Sherlock. Someone with no brain at all could tell that. Prisoners are lookin', tryin' to figure out what's goin' down. There's a crash sound at the stairs that the guards use to get upside, and then a blast of light.

I recognize what comes out the door. Fuckin' necro's followed me here. They start blastin' through convicts, lookin around for your's truly. Kyra looks at me. "Do you know what those are, Riddick?" she asks. Is that fear I smell, Kyra?

"Necromongers. Fuckers followed me here."

Kyra smiles slightly. "So, you're still the most wanted man in the galaxy…What the hell do they want _you_ for?"

"'parently, I'm somethin' called a Furyan. Don't know what the fuck that is, but it ain't human. Bastard leadin' them is scared shitless of Furyans cause some seer told him that one would ghost him someday. Been tryin' to kill me since New Mecca."

Kyra's eyes flashed again. "What will they do if they find you, now?"

I scratch my head and watch the Necros below start up the stairs.

"Ghost me, most likely." Kyra sighed and grabs me by the arm. I wrench it away from her.

"The fuck you doin', Jack?" She glares at me and grabs me again.

"It's Kyra, you asshole, and I'm putting you somewhere safe until they leave." She pulls on my arm and I half stumble after her as she looks over my shoulder.

"I don't run from my fights, Kyra. You know that." Now Eli's got my other arm and is helpin' her along. He's takin' off his coat and puttin' it on me. The fuck?

"Yeah, well this is officially not your fight, Riddick. I may not like you right now, but I'm sure as hell not going to watch you get killed when I could have kept you from leaving me _again_." She tells me, pushin' me into a cell with a sulpher vent in the corner.

"There's a dugout down there about five feet that you can't see until your right in it. Hide there, now." She commands. I look at her like she's fuckin nuts. Then she gives me this look. It's the same damn look she used to give me after she woke up from havin' one of her nightmares. Fuck.

I look back at the door of the cell and then at the vent before climbin' down like she told me too. I'm loosin' my fuckin' touch. Ain't never listened to anyone that told me not to fight. Hate runnin' and hidin'. She doesn't follow me. That's the first thing I notice when I get my ass in the cave she's tellin' me about. I can tell there's been people in here recently. Probably a place to hide when the Yrgrans come lookin' for food. Through the sound of the steam, I hear shouting. Men.

"If you're looking for a big bald man with goggles, I'm afraid you came one day too late, my friends. He was killed when the guards called feeding time for the Yrgrans." I hear Eli say.

"Is that so?" I hear a man reply. I know that voice. That man with the Mohawk. Vaako I think someone called him. Looked like a miserable shit. After meetin' his wife, though, I can kind of understand.

"Yeah, _that's so_." I hear Kyra shoot back. Now's not the time to get disrespectful, Jackie-girl. I didn't come all the way to fuckin' Crematoria to get you only to have you killed 'cause of your damn mouth.

"And who are you?" Vaako asks. I can almost see Kyra's chin lift all defiant like. A habit she never kicked.

"Someone that could easily hand your ass back to you if you aren't careful." Damn it, Jack. Wrong fuckin' answer. This hidin' shit is killing me.

"And how do you propose to do that, Breeder?" Cocky son of a bitch. She could kick your ass if you didn't have seven other dicks behind you and who knows how many fuckin' more blastin' the place apart.

"I'm pretty good at thinking fast, Necro. I'm sure I could come up with something."

"Vaako, have you found him?" I hear another man's voice. The Purifier, they called this one. I half wondered if he wasn't into men when I saw him. Had more jewelry shit on him than the women I saw.

"According to these two Breeders, he was killed this morning by those Yrgrans we saw caged up there."

There's a moment of quiet. "Then you will return to Necropolis and report a successful mission. There is no reason these criminals would lie. They lay their lives on the line for no one but themselves. What would they have to gain from such a lie?" The Purifier reasons. That's right, you say that and get the fuck off this rock before I come up there.

"Take the girl. Kill the man. The girl is attractive. I'm sure the Lord Marshal will be pleased with her. It's been a while since he's had an untamed woman in his bed."

I grip the rocks and growl, tensed to jump out. I hear Eli yell and then the sound of a body hitting the ground. Then I hear Kyra screaming. Telling them to get their fuckin' hands off her. By the grunts I hear, she's getting pretty hard to hold onto. She's yellin' for anyone to help her. If I didn't know any better, I'd say she was screamin' for me.

The frustration and anger I feel travels down my arm and I punch the ground. God Damnit Jackie-girl. You should have hidden with me. I coulda kept you safe.

Her yellin' fades away and after five or so minutes, the Slam is dead silent. I climb out of the hole and look around. There, sitting on one of the rock ledges, staring at the dead body of Eli, is the Purifier.

He looks up at me, and smirks. Fuckin' smirks!

"I didn't think you were really dead. As defensive as that young lady was, I knew you were hiding somewhere."

I pull the shiv I've had hidden in the back of my pants, one I stole when the guards weren't lookin' and press it up against the blond fucker's neck.

"They takin' her back to New Mecca?"

The Purifier nods. "They will most likely give her to the Lord Marshal to enjoy, and then convert her. What is she to you, if I may ask?" his tone is soft and curious, and he doesn't shy from my blade. Interesting. I'm gonna kill this fuck anyway, so I guess there's no harm in tellin' him.

"Known her for a long time. Saved her ass when she was twelve on a planet called T2. She's the reason I came here. To break her ass out."

The Purifier looks at me, the smirk still on his face.

"Well, if you would like her back unscathed, my friend, trust in your fellow Furyan. I shall get you there and into Necropolis without a blink of an eye." He pulls open his weird robe thing and shows me the blue handprint that's been showin' up on my own chest after I wake up from seein' that woman with the braids and shit in her hair. That's enough for me to pull my hand back, if not just in surprise. That's twice in the past two days that I've been surprised. Really fuckin' loosin' my touch. Got nothin' to loose I suppose. This scrawny fucker ain't got jack-shit on me. I could ghost him quicker that he could say 'betray'.

"If you're gonna take me there, then take me there. I wanna make sure that dick doesn't put his hands on her." I tell him. The Purifier nods. I need to ask him what the fuck his name is, but not right now.

He leads me out and up the stairs. Prisoners are all dead that I can see. Guards too. Good fuckin' riddance.

Don't worry, Jack. I'm commin' to find you again. And next time, I'm not hidin' under your fuckin' skirt.

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_A/N: There you have it! Chapter 2. Please R/R and Thanks for reading!_


	3. Chapter 2, Part 1

_**A/N: Hello, and welcome to the second chapter, part 1. Just so you know, I'm planning on doing two chapters Riddick, two chapters Kyra, two chapters Riddick, etc. Two reasons for that: **_

_**I happened to love the Kyra character, though, I thought she was trying far too hard to act big and bad, at least in front of Riddick. Too dramatic. So I'm going to soften the Drama Queen aspect of her up and actually make her something that is truly almost as dangerous as Riddick instead of a seemingly mere show-off. I may be the only one who noticed that, but, who knows. As I write, I'd like to get a feel for both Riddick and Kyra, and how better to do that then get into their heads, right? **_

_**Second reason, and I can't decide if this is bigger or not, Riddick is harder than hell to write in the first person perspective. It's so much easier to just write what he's saying from a narrative point of view, but I see it as a mind simulating challenge, or…just a regular challenge. I'm used to trying to get all pretty and literary, whether I succeed or not (more often times not), and this is the nastiest I've ever gone. All the abbreviated words, cut off words, and believe it or not, swearing. I'm never written so many f-bombs in my life. –evil grin- I lurve it. **_

_**To those who have read, may thanks be to you. To those who read AND reviewed, I LOVE YOU! Because of you, this story will go on and my challenge will continue. A couple questions were raised in the reviews, and I will answer. **_

_**Death By Teacup: There is no way in hell I'm leaving that out. You'll just have to wait and see where it's going to come in though. It WILL happen, so keep reading.**_

_**Eli: Eli is the name I gave to the guy in the trench coat (lead convict), because he was given no name. The name of the Purifier, which we will find out in one or two chapters, is also going to be one of my inventions, (or even borrowed from Cricket71 since I loved the name Eron for him, and now I don't see him as anything else). We shall see. **_

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**Just Like Me**

**A story by Firesblood**

**Chapter 3**

When I was eleven years old, the government took me away from my mother. Apparently she was dealing drugs out the back of her legitimate restaurant business. I never much liked my mother anyway. She was too…strict, too feminine, and she insisted that I be just like her.

They took me to a foster family that was much worse than the place I had come from, and that's how I ended up on the H. G., and how I met Riddick.

It's been several years, and I'm hardly the awed little girl I used to be. If you'd have told me when I was ten years old that I would be a killer rotting away in a no-daylight slam for the rest of my natural life, I would have called you crazy. Then again, we don't just wake up one morning and decide ultimately that we want to be psychotic killers, do we?

When Riddick left me on New Mecca with Imam, I was shattered. What hurt the worst is that he didn't even look back as he was leaving. He just held his head high, and got on the ship. Why couldn't he just take me along? Did he honestly think it would be safer for me there? Imam didn't know how to fight, and I knew very little. What if mercs came for us one day?

Imam kept telling me that we would be okay, everyone thought Riddick was dead. Finally, I got tired of it and told him that people died every day, but it didn't mean that they weren't still running around somewhere. The perfect example is Audrey Wheeler. Audrey Wheeler died on earth, but not before Jack Christopherson was born.

Some mercs aren't stupid enough to believe rumors. Some mercs just keep on coming, no matter what they hear.

And come they did. I hooked up with a group of mercs that got me off the sunlit planet of my personal hell. Unfortunately, I was thrust right back into a different kind of hell. The worst thing in the world to me is having a nightmare and feeling the monsters grab you, beat you, try to kill you, rape you…and then wake up to find that every bit of it is real and happening at that moment. When I wasn't tied to the bed in my bunk-room, I was bait for the paydays, and the mercs always got there a little too late.

Then there was the mining platforms in the Draconis System. Sleep maybe three hours if I was lucky, get up, get dressed, eat whatever slop they felt like feeding us that day, then go to work in the mines until the night bell rang. I was one of two women in that whole operating area, and a lot of things happened in those tunnels. That's where I learned to fight. In the darkness, I honed my senses, just like that asshole Riddick told me too. But it wasn't about him or his approval anymore; it was truly for my survival and my survival alone.

My hearing heightened, my sense of smell strengthened, and my sight grew keen in the darkness. I could stand in a tunnel as black as pitch, and feel everything around me without touching anything. Subtle changes in the air, shifts, breezes from movement, anything. The quiet drip of water down the tunnels sounded like it was amplified by a hundred.

And then there was the fighting, the movement. I had seen Riddick move and fight before, the sheer grace and beauty of it. I found myself practicing the moves, inventing my own, and losing myself in a deadly dance, and my music was the pained screaming of anyone who got too close to me and the sound of shivs and other blades clashing together.

Despite all the shit that happened to me in those tunnels, I was grateful to the mercs that dumped me there. They helped hone me into what I am today, and when they finally came to get me and move on, I paid them back threefold by showing them exactly what I had learned from my experience. Twenty-seven men and women, all with the fake, nickel-slick badges that that fuckwit Johns flashed around, all spaced into the vacuum of eternity to be picked up by the scavengers.

How can I describe the feeling of killing someone? My first kill…I remember it far clearer than all the others. The captain of the merc ship that picked me up, a plain, brown-haired-brown-eyed man that reeked of tobacco, opium, and Jose Cuervo. I locked us in his cabin and killed him as slowly as I could. Each cut I made, each scream or moan he uttered, I could feel something in me break, a door. It started out as an insistent knock, then a pounding that I could hear in my ears. Then, pieces started to fall apart. Blood washed over my hands in torrents of crimson, staining my skin and clothes until I was nothing but a blood-spattered avenging angel. As I watched the life ebb in his eyes, the door collapsed and I knew that Jack Christopherson was dead, and out of the darkness walked Kyra Ingram. Kyra was an entity so familiar, so repulsive and violent, so beautiful and powerful, that nothing could ever touch her or hurt her. Kyra was the feminine version of Riddick, everything that I had ever wanted to be from the moment I laid eyes on his own shined gaze, and a little more. Kyra became me.

Unforgiving. Merciless. A grudge-holding bitch that held a scythe of shadows in one hand, and a whip of fire in the other. By the end of the night, I was so bloodied that I couldn't even tell what color my skin had originally been.

They weren't my last victims. I killed without hesitation, but I always had my reasons. You couldn't pin the term Vigilante to me any more than you could pin it to Richard B. Riddick, but I always had my reasons and my victims were all the same type. I was caught outside of Lupis 5, and taken to Crematoria. I thought I'd never get used to the bitter smell of sulpher, but I did. It only took a week. I remember being proud of myself and my cool when the constant clanging of metal on metal started up. The moment they lowered me down, Eli spouted off the usual speech, and from then on I had his protection, and the protection of his allies. I was smart enough to make connections when the hand was offered to me. I may be good, but I wasn't good enough to fend off a whole slam full of sex-deprived men. With Eli's help, I never really had to, the guards being the one exception.

So, when Riddick shows up three years later to the place that has for better or worse become my home, things started stirring in me that I thought had died a long time ago. Feelings that I had once had started pounding on a completely separate door. Thankfully, this door was made of the strongest metal instead of the brittle wood that I had erected in my mind as Jack.

I had forgotten how good he looked to me, and how alluring the idea of never knowing just where his eyes were looking was. Unfortunately, he came looking for his Jackie-girl, the awed sister-figure that looked at him like a mere mortal would a God. If only he knew that his trip had been wasted and what had taken Jack B. Baddass' place. I could never look at him like that again.

And if that wasn't bad enough, he lured Necromongers, or whatever he called them, here. I always knew Riddick was a magnet for trouble, but I never realized just how much of one he was.

I don't know why I saved him. I don't know why I hid him in that dugout and stayed in the cell with Eli to defend him. The only thing Riddick has ever done for me is leave. I have learned to hate life debt. Maybe I did it to make us even. Either way, we are square now.

I nearly lost myself when they killed Eli. He and I had a comfortable relationship. Friends, confidantes, and very occasional lovers when the heat of the night got too heavy to live through alone.

The man with the Mohawk had his men grab me, and I felt what little of Jack left in me cower in fear. Were they taking me back to the mines? Where they going to beat me until nearly every inch of my skin is black and blue? The only thing I knew is that they were planning on giving me to some Lord whatever. I felt the panic in me rise. Panic, and pure, white-hot livid fury, pounding like a tide in my chest and my skull. They had their arms around me. Their hands were touching me, and they had no right. I felt like a Yrgran in a cage, pacing back and forth, struggling against the bars to get that morsel of food that my captors were teasing me with, fighting against the burning shock of their lightning sticks when I got too close.

I kicked, I screamed, I bit, I cut and they didn't even flinch, they just gripped tighter. They bled, but their blood was not the living scarlet like the color of my mother's zinnias in the springtime, no, it was dull and brown-tinted, dead and coppery, with the underlying scent of death that secretly frightened me. Mohawk said something about throwing me into the Lord's bed and then converting me. What did he mean by converting me?

Was it painful? Would my blood, rich and deep with life and fight, be brown and dead and submissive like theirs when it was done? No, Riddick would never let that happen. Riddick, who got himself caught and entered my hell-home just to get me out, would fight until his own death to keep me safe, wouldn't he?

They throw me into a barred cell that's barely bigger than the cages the guards would stuff me into for punishment. I kick against the bars and scream, a wounded animal dying and fighting to be free in its last minutes of existence. The lights go out without warning and I'm left alone with nothing but the sound of my own screams echoing on the stone and metal.

I couldn't depend on Riddick, I knew that, but at the same time, Riddick had never walked away when my life was truly in danger, like he could have. When I felt like I needed him the most, he was nowhere to be found, but in a situation like this…

I kick the bars for good measure as much as I do to determine that they aren't weakening. I cover my face in my hands and let out a final, frustrated scream. Then, in a plea that is barely a whisper, I stare into the darkness, knowing that he could never hear it.

"Remember when I said I didn't need your help, Riddick? You knew I was kidding right?"

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_A/N: Well, there you have another chapter. I hope you enjoyed it! Just so you know, in my little universe, Jack's mother was a very well-to-do woman who was successful in her endeavors, but mostly because of the crap she was dealing in secret. The money she got went towards Jack's education, and our heroine was put into the best private schools money could buy, learning high-school and sometimes college-level things. I also see my Jack as a brilliant young woman, who could have done great things had she stayed on earth. So, if you notice the change in sophistication between Kyra and Riddick, it's because I see Kyra a little more educated in vocabulary and speech. Please R/R! Thanks for reading! _


	4. Chapter 2, Part 2

**_Hello and thank you for coming with me this far! I'm glad that most of you seem to be enjoying it. A very special thanks to those that have reviewed almost every chapter: Cenababy, TotallyRiddickObsessed, Runningwild22, and Dragonmamma. Also thanks to all those who have read and reviewed (-wink- keep going and your name will be on my happy list!). Also, thank you for those who brought Eli's name to my attention as Gov. I did a little more research and am in the process of editing a few things in the previous chapters. I found out his real name and even what he got sent to slam for. Information comes from the faqs on pitchblacker. Thank you all very much! Now, onward!_**

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Just like me

A story by Firesblood

Chapter 2, part 2

The darkness was consuming me. I had lived in a prison with no daylight, worked in the tunnels on a planet that was sunless, but they had always had some sort of light, whether it was fluorescents, or moons. Complete darkness, true, pitch black, surrounded me now. Three years of the yellow sulphur pits lighting everything up in an amber glow, enough to see where you're going, and you get used to never being in complete darkness.

I don't know how long I was in that cell, but I took the time to grieve during the trip. I just couldn't get Eli's lifeless face out of my mind. I didn't know much about him, but I knew where he came from and how he came to power in the slam. Ceryll Cantaglia ran something called the Benz-Kardak Coda on Sigma Minor for 17 years. It was an unheard of length of time, and he was eventually picked up for vehicular Manslaughter after years of avoiding conviction.

When he came to Crematoria, he assumed power and led as he had on Sigma Minor. At first, I knew him as Eli. He told me that Ceryll died in the shame of being caught. I knew exactly what he meant. Audrey and Jack died in their own separate shames.

So I grieved for Eli, for Guv, for the one person who reached his hand out to me when I landed in Crematoria, the one person who had my back for three straight years and never turned on me. Prison and assorted years of crime had turned him hard and cynical, but I knew a different side of him. Hell, to the prisoners, we were two steps shy of being considered man and wife. As much as I cared for Eli, I shudder at the thought.

I feel the ship shake, and then go silent. The door opens and the lights flicker on, and Mohawk is standing there with six other soldiers. He steps aside silently and the six move towards my cage. I actually take the time to look at their leader. Tired, dark eyes, pale face and a soft-looking, full mouth that looks as if it has been frowning too long. Did he ever smile? Has he ever smiled in his entire life? As he stares at me, Eli's face flashes in my eyes again. Mohawk has the same lifeless look. Again, the panic rises in me, but I quell it when they open the small door. Before they can get a hold on me, I strike out, a hidden blade pressed tightly between and around my fingers. The black edge slices between the small open space where his helm ends and his chest armor begins. Blood, brown, coppery, dead gushes from the wound and he drops, a wet gurgling struggling in the back of his throat. I propel myself forward and out, kicking the fallen man forcefully into the men behind him. It's like watching dominos as they both stumble backwards. I narrowly avoid the plasma blast sent my way by the second soldier in front and with a swiftness they could never match, I've slipped a shiv out and thrown it. It lodges in the eye-slot of the mask and another kick from yours truly drives it in deeper.

Another plasma blast and I swing around, dealing a kick to the second in line, one hand ripping my shiv from the now-dead bastard tumbling to the ground with a solid 'clanking' sound. I fall into my graceful dance, feeling my own movement and only focusing on survival. Roundhouse after freeing the spikes in my shoes and another soldier goes down, his hands clasped to where half of his neck used to be, trying to stop the flow. I take up one of their rifles and the last three go down in a matter of seconds. Slowly, I turn to look to Mohawk. He's watching me with quiet wonder. I note with approval the lack of fear in his dead eyes as I take a cautious step forward, lifting the rifle to get a good shot if he so much as moves an inch. I'm not much for anything that isn't a melee weapon, but ranged does come in handy.

I also note that he does not raise his arms like I have seen so many do when faced with something that could blow them away in a matter of seconds. I step closer to him and nudge his chin with the barrel of the gun, watching for a reaction, my head tilted slightly to the side. His eyes are empty again, and I can see the muscles in his jaw twitch.

"What is this Conversion you were talking about?" I ask, knocking his chin a little harder than intended with the mouth of the weapon. To his credit, he doesn't flinch. Haltingly, he begins to explain about the Necromonger way, and the process of conversion. He tells me that it hurts at first, but the pain goes away eventually and that you are reborn.

I frown in thought. I have already been reborn twice now, and all because of the pain. The heartache of getting ripped from everything I knew and then sent to a family who only wanted me for the money the government would give them for my care. Even then, it wasn't enough. My foster father kicked me out on my ass with ten creds to live off of and told me if he ever saw me again, that he'd cut me up and feed me to his prized wolf hounds. The pain of rejection, the crash, the pain of Riddick leaving me screaming and crying on the dry soil-sand of New Mecca, the pain of what I had endured with the mercs and Rykengoll slavers and the mines…if what he was saying was true, it would all be gone. The creature within screamed at me, cursing me for even considering such a thing.

_You are who you are because of what you have gone through, Jack. You would not be Kyra if you hadn't gone through all that pain. Pain has made you stronger, faster, smarter. Pain helped you kill all his fucking toy soldiers in under twenty seconds. Pain and anger are your damned desert honeyed milk and manna. You let them take that away, and I, Kyra, will forever be gone. Riddick only looked at you because of me. You are nothing without me,_ the creature hissed, and I could almost feel her claws dig into my shoulders as she leaned into my ear. I knew that she, that _I_ was right. I would be nothing without her. A shadow, a submissive, miserable, shadow-eyed half-dead walking around in silence unless addressed. That was the last thing I wanted. I didn't want to go back to being Audrey.

As I think, Mohawk grabs the gun from me and before I can react has it pressed against my own chin. Several more toy soldiers file in, barrels all only inches from me.

"Move on, now." Mohawk says in a low voice, the hostile look on his face returned from the depths of Crematoria. Like I normally did around the disgusting guards of the slam, I raise my hands slowly and smirk, turning slowly in the direction of the door, allowing them to think I had given up. I didn't see the man they referred to as the Purifier. Either he was already off the ship or he stayed behind because they suspected mine and Eli's lies. No matter. Riddick could take his skinny, blond ass any day of the week.

They push me along out of the ship and into a massive cargo hold big enough to hold a score of the ship I just exited. They move me down a corridor, occasionally jabbing me in the back or side with their plasma rifles. I nearly turn on the most persistent of them, but the creature within me urges me to keep a cool head and pick my fight, for in this place, I would most likely only get one and I had to make it good. Besides, there is no Richard B. Riddick to play who's the better killer with, and there probably wouldn't be.

Though, if the mercs that brought him in hadn't left yet, their ship was probably still in the bay waiting. Riddick is intelligent and has a nose for escape and survival. He's probably already found it and taken off, if he's coming after me at all. The tiny piece of Jack yells at me for doubting Big Evil. _Of course he'll come for me!_ I stamp out the voice of my past and grit my teeth as they push me harshly into a large basilica-like room. At the back of the room, on the top of a few steps sits a throne, and within it, a heavily armored man. He eyes me as the soldiers stop and bend down on their knees to bow. I look at them like their idiots and make no move to show this man the respect he hasn't earned in my eyes. If he is offended, he says or does nothing. He stands from his chair and moves to step in front of me.

"What manner of breeder have you brought me, Vaako?" He addresses Mohawk. So that's his name. Vaako lifts his head but his gaze remains fixed somewhere on the armored expanse of the man's chest.

"Lord Marshal, I have brought you a rare gift from the depths of the hell called Crematoria." He replies. His voice is grudging, as if he'd rather be anywhere but near this man.

The Lord Marshal shifts from Vaako to me and stares at me, every detail almost visibly being taken into his mind, down to every half-formed droplet of sweat on my forehead. He steps closer and inhales my scent, then wrinkles his nose in disgust.

"Have her washed and dressed and then present her to me. I cannot enjoy the look or scent of a rose that is covered in mud and shit, now can I?" he snaps at Vaako. I know I shouldn't, but I feel insulted.

"I'll have you know that I wash and bathe every day, you dumb fuck." I hiss at him, my arms crossing almost protectively over my chest. The Lord Marshal blinks and then a slow, small smile graces his lips. I thought that perhaps he could have been handsome once in his younger years and without the cold, dead look in his eyes. His hand rises and moves to strike me, and I duck under it, scraping the blade in my fingers across his un-gauntleted hand.

His eyes widen slightly and flickers down to the blood that's beginning to bead on the scrape. In stead of angry like I expect him to be, he looks satisfied. I don't like it one bit.

"Well, then you shall be washed and bathed again, breeder, then dressed in something much more suitable for your station." He tells me, his voice as smooth as it's graveled texture will let it go. _Nowhere near as sexy as Riddick's voice_, I hear something inside of me say. I grit my teeth and shake my head once to clear it.

Ten women, dressed in dark blues and blacks make their way through the soldiers and gently take my arms and hands. One of them offers a small, almost reassuring smile as they lead me down the hall. They are small and weak. I could break their necks like twigs so quick that they'd all be dead by the time the first one hit the ground. _Pick your fight wisely,_ I hear in my head again.

They take me to a large bathing chamber, a pool of steaming water at it's center and several other women at it's edge either wrapped in a dark towel or in nothing but the skin they were born in. Many sport bruises upon their flesh, as well as cuts. When I enter the room with the other ten, many of them look at me with cool, calculating looks before standing and moving further away to give me ample room to wash, or they go to another bathing pool tucked behind a curtain of brown-black gossamer cloth and the intricately woven black and gold trellis partitions.

Two of the women lift my stained shirt over my head, the one who smiled at me staring at the spatter of dried blood on the dirty cloth. The others go to remove my pants and I wheel around.

"I can undress myself, thank you very much!" Without a word, they back away from me, and after a moment's hesitation, I proceed to dispose of what I was still wearing.

The one that smiled, a pretty, blue eyed woman with hair shorn nearly to her scalp, takes my hand and leads me into the water, I'm assuming to keep me from slipping. I wouldn't slip anyway, but she's not threatening me. If anything, she's been the nicest so far. Another woman who disappeared behind the partition returns with a strange basket and sets it down. I recognize jars and bottles. The nice woman picks up a bottle and empties some of it into her hands.

"What's your name?" I ask curiously. As much as I'm loath to make any connections in this place, it's best to keep the façade of someone who has given up, plans on staying for a while, and won't fight back. She offers me another smile.

"Laina." Her voice is quiet, shy, and sweet. Water is poured over my head and Laina begins massaging the liquid into my scalp. The smell is crisp, clean, and pleasant, and her fingers feel amazing. It had been a long time since anyone had touched me gently like this without the intention to hurt me. Any time Eli and I took comfort in each other's bodies, it was fevered, frantic, and over in a matter of minutes. Both of us would walk away from injuries obtained by sharp rocks or metal bars.

The bathing went by slowly, and I simply closed down and allowed myself to enjoy it. I hadn't been truly clean in three years. The extent of my washing was the rinse of the sulphur and mineral water that fell in the prison. There was no soap, there was nothing. I'm guessing I probably did smell pretty repulsive.

When it was done, they toweled me off and dressed me in a dress very similar to theirs, but it was a deep blood red in color. I admire the color of it. It was my favorite and always had been.

Then, they usher me along back to the large room that I had met the Lord Marshal in previously. There, he would determine my fate. I wish that Riddick would hurry and get here. I don't think that they will give me the choice about who can or cannot touch me, or to keep my life or be converted, and from the look in the Lord Marshal's eyes, that thought is made fact.

"What the fuck are you staring at, asshole?" I snap, going to reach for where I normally keep my shiv. I mentally slap myself. They had all my weapons. _God damnit, pick your fight wisely! Runnin' your fuckin' mouth will only get you in deeper, Jackie-girl!_ I hear a completely different voice in my head. The sound of Riddicks voice. I hadn't heard his voice in my head telling me what to do since I signed on with the mercs to get off of New Mecca.

I'm momentarily startled and my face shows it, I know.

With a rough hand, the Lord Marshal grabs my arm and drags me out of the Basilica, ignoring the kicking and screaming that is coming from me.

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__A/n: Well, thats it for this chapter. It's slow going at the moment, but it will pick up after this chapter. Be warned, a small beacon of humor in the next chapter. Also, I'm not going to beg for reviews, but know that reviews do keep me going. If I don't get many reviews, it makes me feel that nobody is really interested, and my muses take off on me. reviews keep me and the muses happy, so please Read and Review! Thanks for reading._


	5. Chapter 3, Part 1

_**Just another reminder everyone, this story is rated MA for Violence, adult language, and future sexual content. **_

_**Thank you everyone for reading this far, and for letting me know that you are enjoying it! **__**A very special thanks to: Cenababy, Mordreds Girl, Runningwild22, FitMama, Saismaat, Lillianrose4**__** for being so faithful to me. I love you guys! **_

_**We are back to Riddick's perspective now. I actually had a hard time writing this, but mainly because the original fight between the Lord Marshal and Riddick was…yeah. The only part I didn't like about it was when Kyra got impaled. It was hard as well, because it was one of those chapters that you have to get out of the way in order to move on. The story will pick up after this. Hope you enjoy it! **_

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**Just like me**

**A story by Firesblood**

**Chapter 3, Part 1**

The ride back to New Mecca and what they called Necropolis was uneventful. Scrawny fuck didn't talk. Suited me just fine. Before we left, he found a dead Necro. Stripped his armor and gave it to me. Told me I'd need it if I wanted to get in unnoticed to get Jack.

Took the ship from the fuckin' mercs that brought me to Crematoria and flew it out. Wasn't fast enough for my liking. Way things've been goin' lately, by the time we got there, it'd already be too late for Jack.

When we did get there, it was easier than I thought it'd be to get in. The Purifier disappeared and left me to my own, and I watched the Lord Marshal, or whatever the fuck they called the lead dick, sit on his big throne. From the side I saw a few women, all dressed in dark colors, come in leadin' another, one that I knew. I held my breath. It was Jack. Her hair was done up and she was wearin' a dress like them. Was I too fuckin' late, again?

"What the fuck are you looking at, asshole?" I hear her snap all defiant. _God damnit, choose your fight wisely! Runnin' your fuckin' mouth will only get you in deeper, Jackie-girl!_ I think to myself. I watch her reach for somethin' that obviously ain't there, and I edge closer to the stairs, almost smellin' the fear that makes her go rigid.

The Lord Marshal stands and fuckin' grabs her arm, and I can't keep a low growl from escapin'. Son of a bitch is touchin' my Jack. He starts draggin' her out of the basilica, and she starts kickin' and screamin', hittin' him over and over again with the one arm that isn't forced still. Isn't havin' any effect that I can see. It's probably turnin' the dick on.

I take the stairs and head in their direction as calm as I can be. I follow her screaming. Hasn't shut her up yet. See them in front of me, now. Don't think I've seen Jack look that furious, not even when I left her behind. She's yellin' curse words at him, threatenin' him. If I could see his face, I think he'd be amused.

She catches sight of me. I don't blink. I see the smallest flicker of hope in those green eyes before it disappears, keepin' up her screamin' so's not to raise suspicion. I notice that she's not kickin' or hittin' anymore, though she's still thrashin'.

Nobody looks at me as I follow behind them. Far enough back to not get attention. I watch as the fuck slams her hard against the wall. I feel myself tense as I watch him grab her hair and bend her head back like it ain't attached to nothin'. Hear a couple cracks too, and for a minute I'm afraid he's broke her neck. But, she's still movin', and screams from the pain this time. It fills her voice and I hear the beast in me roar. _No fuckin' way did he just do that! _

He bites her neck, and I see a slow line of blood fall down the curve of it. She bites down on her lip to keep from cryin' out, and I've had enough. I can already see dark bruises on her hands and feet where she's been hittin' him. Have to make sure she hasn't broken anything when I'm finished.

Goes to open a door and I slam into him, drivin' him and Jack into the room. I kick the door shut and pull out my shivs, ready to ghost his ass right then.

He's lookin' at me now, his mouth red with Jack's blood. He licks it away and grins at me.

"So Vaako was wrong about your death." He says, pushin' Jack away. I watch through the corner of my eye as she tumbles to the floor, her head hittin' one of the chairs, and her yelpin' when she puts weight on her hand to get up. Takes me a lot of control not to go to her, but I manage.

"You know what they say," I reply, "You want somethin' done right, do it your fuckin' self. You grabbed the wrong woman, and now you're gonna pay for every little fuckin' mark on her body she's got from Slam to now."

The Lord Marshal stands a little taller. "Perhaps we should carry this on in a more public place." He suggests, but I know it's more than a suggestion. He reaches down and grabs Jack by the hair, his other hand passing through her head. A ghost form of her follows it out, mouth open in a silent scream. He doesn't move his hand any farther, though, just enough to show me what he plans on doin' if he doesn't get his way. Instinctively, I know all this fuck has to do is twitch his finger and Jack's soul will be free, then gone. Can't let that happen.

"You have seen what I can do, Furyan. If you want a battle between us, than I would prefer to have you fall in front of witnesses. Now, back out." I take a few steps and open the door, backin' out slowly. I see a few Necros tense up and start takin' aim at me with their guns, but the Lord Marshal commands them to stand down.

Still keepin' an eye on him and Jack, we get back down to the basilica and he drops her, her soul sinkin' back to where it's s'posed to be. She takes a deep breath and stands, shiftin' so her weight is on the less damaged of her feet. As she looks at me, I can almost see what she's thinkin', arguin' with herself 'bout somethin'.

Those green eyes will be the death of me. Fierce, angry, but holdin' back. I know that look. I used to see that look in the mirror before Shirah gave me the shinejob. Jack's fightin' the animal in her. She's fightin' hard.

Her eyes widen and I swing around, pushin' myself back as the fuck comes at me. I pull out the knife I brought, the one I got off of him when I fought the son of a bitch that killed Imam. I go to jam it into his side, but he's too damn fast. Fucker takes himself away in a way I never seen before. Like his spirit leaves his body or some shit, but keeps linked somehow. The beast in me goes quiet all the sudden, as if it sees how serious this is. He's usin' parlor tricks, and good ones.

I watch him closely as I circle, studyin' the way he's movin', lookin' for a weakness. He doesn't take his eyes off me, and he matches my pace. I stop and stand straight, cock my head, my knife held loose at my side. There it is. He depends on his right side too much. A good fighter, strengthens both sides. If I can do some damage to his right, he'll have to fight with his left. Too cocky. Makes me look fuckin' humble.

I see a flash of confusion when I stand straight, then he's on top of me, and I feel him deal a blow with his gauntleted fist to my gut. I block out the pain and focus on keepin' hold of my knife. He turns it and I grit my teeth as he brings the point closer to my throat. Ain't no way, motherfucker, _ain't no way._

Then I hear somethin' behind him and his mouth gapes open in surprise. I see green eyes lookin' at me over his shoulder, wild and livid. I didn't think she could keep it caged any longer. He goes to roll off me and swings back, his fist connecting with her side and I see her fly backward. My eyes see past her to the sharp blade-spikes linin' the column she's headed directly for, and I feel myself get sick.

Not her. Not when I just found her. Never told her just what she did for me. I watch as she twists in the air, almost like she found a rope, and turns herself around. When she hits, she hits hands and knees first. She bites back a cry of pain as one of the blades goes through her hand, but manages to grab onto one of the showy spears they got stickin' up to keep her from impalin' any other part herself. She lets out a breath and looks down, noticin' the two spikes that are close enough to knick her stomach if she moves at all.

"Vaako, help me…" I hear the lead fuck command all soft and shit. I turn to watch as the man with the Mohawk starts forward, a battle axe in his hands. First thing I notice, is that he ain't lookin' at me. He's walkin' slowly towards his leader. Don't think I've ever seen a more miserable lookin' man in my life.

"Vaako?" I smell fear now. Knows just as much as I do what Vaako's really there for now, and it isn't to help 'im. He does his ghost thing, but the dumb fuck chose the wrong spot. As soon as he comes solid I drive the knife deep into his skull and break it off. I hear somethin' behind me fall to the floor with a grunt, spices and blood reachin' my nose. The Lord Marshal collapses in front of me and I hear a cry of anger and disappointment from somewhere above on the balconies. I turn and go to Jack, who's layin' down propped on her elbows, lookin' at her bloody hand. Both of her hands are shakin'.

"You alright?" I ask her. She glares at me.

"I'm having a fucking _great_ day, how about you?" she snaps at me. Yep, she's just fine. I take her injured hand as gently as I can and look at it. Surprised she actually lets me take it.

"You know, I was just fine before you came to Crematoria. I didn't have to worry about hardly _anything_, and what I _did_ have to worry about I had _fun_ taking care of! Do you just draw trouble everywhere you go?" she keeps goin' pullin' her hand away. Her clothes are torn at her stomach where the blades cut at it. I feel somethin' in me tighten, knowin' that if she hadn't turned just in time or hadn't been payin' attention, I'd be watchin' her bleed out right now. The sick feelin' returns and I just stare at her while she keeps runnin' that mouth. Cheeks are flushed and angry.

"—and do you know why, Riddick? Because he thought I'd be a good fucking lay! And _you_ brought them there! You never think things through, do you? It's always about you and what you want to do! Nevermind that the rest of us—"

Don't think I've really looked at her since I saw her on Crematoria. She's clean now. Not a bit of dirt or ash on her, and only a little blood. Skins pale without a flaw. Hairs lighter than I thought it was at first. Got a little gold and red in it. Scent isn't mixed with sulpher anymore. Pure spice.

"—I mean did you honestly think that I'd just fall back into what we used to have before you _dumped_ me off on that damn _rock_ to fry and die in the sun? Do you have _any_ idea what I went through when you left? _Fucking look at me, Riddick_!" she screams, and I look her in the eyes. Much as I just want her to shut the fuck up right now, she needs to get it out of her system. Been holdin' shit in too long. I never had anyone to blow up on. Don't know how I got the short straw when it came to her.

Instead of tellin' her to close her fuckin' mouth like I might have when she was a kid, I pull her a little closer and wrap my arms around her, tuckin' her head under my chin. She fights me, but she doesn't have all that much energy after the crap she's been through in the past few days.

"Get off of me." I hear her tell me, voice is quiet and I can tell she's mopin'. She knows I won't fuckin' listen to her. Don't know why she's even tryin'.

"Let me remind you, Jack, you made this choice for me when you stuffed me away in a fuckin' sulphur vent." I tell her. She struggles against me, but I hold her still.

"It's Kyra, you fuck, and you didn't have to listen to me. You obviously don't listen when I remind you what my name is, so why listen to me and hide?" She retorts. It's cause you gave me that fuckin' look, Jack. You know what that look does to me. Can't say no to it, never been able to. Much as I want to. "Even then, you could have just left me alone to rot, like you did when I was twelve."

Hate that she keeps bringin' that shit up. Someone clears their throat and I turn my head to see the Purifier standin' there, a small smile on his smug fuckin' face. Beyond him, Vaako is standin' there like he's the damn statue of sulk incarnate, and the rest of the necros that watched us fight.

"You keep what you kill…" The Purifier says, and he kicks the dead fuck's helmet towards me. I watch it roll towards us and come to a stop by my leg.

"Hey!" Jack shouts in my ear, and I glare at her. She glares right back and pushes herself away, but I only let her move a little. "I'm not done talking to you, and don't think I am just because _they_ are standing there!"

Think I've had enough for now. "We are for now, _Jack_. We'll continue this later." I let her go and she gets up slowly. I jump onto my feet, and feel a hard, stingin' feelin' on the side of my face. Bitch just slapped me. The beast roars again, but not out of anger. _She needs a lesson, big evil. You're just the one to teach her._

"_It's Kyra_!" she yells, inches from my face. She stands a bit back and blinks a bit, shakin' her head, before sinkin' with a groan to the floor. Bleedin' too much out her hand, way too much excitement. Looks like it hit a few major veins.

I pick her up and look around. "Rooms. Now. And bandages."

The Purifier steps forward.

"Follow me, Lord Riddick."

_Lord_ Riddick? Like the sound of that.

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_A/n: Thank you all so much for the support. Don't worry, as I mentioned above subtly, I just want to make it clear that this is not the end of this fic. But the fic will move on faster after this chapter. I am still looking for a beta, so if anyone is interested, let me know. I love to hear your comments, thank you for reading! _


	6. Chapter 3, Part 2

**_A/n: Thank you all to those who reviewed, and a special thanks to Mordreds Girl, Lillianrose4, Running-wild22, Saismaat, Spedclass, D'Lark, and AZTECPHENOM. Thanks for reading!_**

* * *

**Just Like You**

**A Story by Firesblood**

**Chapter 3, Part 2**

Don't understand it. Saw the hope in her eyes when the former Lord was draggin' her ass to bed. Now, as I'm sittin' here tryin' to fix her damn hand, she's glarin' at me like I was the one that threatened her. Keep tryin' to remind myself of what Imam told me. Jack never did forgive me, and the proof of it is in her face. Can't push her, and I hate it.

I tie the bandage off once I get the bleedin' to stop. She takes her hand back and cradles it to her, and I move forward to check if her stomach has any cuts on it where her dress is torn. She jerks back from me like I'm tryin' to hurt her, and I freeze.

"The fuck was that?" tryin' to help her ungrateful ass. Don't care if she's Jack, the same cute kid that I just couldn't help but take to. Don't care if she's one of the most beautiful creatures I've ever seen. She could at least be cooperative.

"I'm fine. There isn't anything else to see." She says, and I hear the edge in her voice. I slip my goggles off and meet her eyes. What is she hidin' from me?

"What do you think I'm tryin' to do, Jack?" I ask. I still don't know everything that's happened since I left her on New Mecca. Couldn't have been me leavin' alone that made her into this. Fact that she flinches away when I try to touch her…makes my insides go cold.

"I don't know, Riddick, what are you trying to do?" she bites out, and she pulls a little farther away from me. I just watch her. I note the sweat that's startin' to break out on her forehead, and the small crease between her eyebrows. Her eyes are like cold crystal, meetin' mine in a way that nobody but her could. Most people get scared when they see my eyes. Jacks been the only one to ever actually want them.

"Remember who you're talkin' too, Jack." I remind her again, like I had on Crematoria. Her eyes narrow to slits and she puts even more space between us. Used to be so damn simple. Whenever we talked, she'd sit right next to me with her side against mine and lay her head on my shoulder. Sat on my lap once for a minute, too. After nightmares, she'd kneel in front of me and wrap her arms 'round my middle and cry. Couldn't help but put my arms around her. Seemed like they just fit there.

But she isn't next to me now, or wrappin' her arms around me like I'm the only thing keepin' her rooted down. The look she's givin' me makes something in me twist a little bit, and the beast is growlin' low.

"Oh, you think I could forget? Do you think I could honestly forget who Richard B. Riddick is?" she starts. Now I've fuckin' done it. In a minute, she'll start rantin' on my ass. Only question is, do I let her go, or do I shut her up somehow? 'Least we're in a private room where half the place isn't watchin', this time.

"I tried to forget you, Riddick. You wouldn't believe how hard I tried, but you were always there, especially at first, telling me what to do or how to do it. 'Look both ways Jack', 'listen to things around you Jack', 'tune your senses', 'watch your back', 'think before you act', 'always carry a blade', 'never let your guard down', '_pick your fucking fights wisely Jack'!_ Always there! I couldn't have one minute of peace!" she punches the back of the couch, wincin'. I want to move to her to make sure she's okay, but I don't. Jack needs this. I need to hear this. I need to know what happened. Can't do that if I shut her up now or make her more uncomfortable.

"So after a while, I stopped trying. I stopped trying because you were so god damned _ingrained_ in me that if I tried any harder to forget you, I'd forget a part of myself. Did you know that when you left me, Imam had to carry me back to the city because I couldn't keep myself on my feet I was crying so hard? You didn't even look back! You just turned and left! You didn't even say goodbye—"

"I said 'take care, kid'. Same fuckin' thing." I interrupt. Shit, shouldn't have said that. She grits her teeth and flexes her mostly uninjured hand, and her face turns red.

"_Shut up Riddick_! After a year of hoping you would come back for me and trying to move on, I gave up. As much as I liked Imam, I couldn't live with him. We wanted me to go to school, and to church and to be the perfect little adopted daughter. I just couldn't do that. I was so pissed off at you that I thought that even if you did come back, not finding me there would give you just a small taste of some of the things I was feeling, assuming you cared at all. I caught a ride with some Mercs who found me, to the Elgian system. They decided that they liked me and were willing to take me on and give me a good cut."

I felt cold settle in my stomach. So she had signed with Mercs, and whatever was comin' next was gonna make me hurt. I need to know. I need to know what happened to her after I left her. I gotta listen no matter how hard it is.

"I'll give you two guesses for what happened to me next. It turns out that they were more than willing to take me on, but not in the way that I thought. They used me as bate for the paydays, but somehow their timing was always off. I can't tell you how many men had their way with me because the asshole on the other side of the door, who was supposed to bust in and take the payday, was busy getting his jollies. Then, they slaved me out, first to the crew, which lasted three months almost solid, and then to the Rykengoll who put me in the Draconis Mines. The mines were far worse than anything in Crematoria. Slam was a vacation compared to that.

"I killed so many men in those mines. They never did find out until later that it was me that did it. That's where I tuned my senses like you told me too." She gets an ironic smile on her face. My hands are fuckin' shakin' now. I wish more than before that we were back to simple times. I want nothin' more than to shake her right now for leavin' New Mecca at all, then fix her firm under my arms till all that shit goes away.

"Even after all that shit, I was still doing what you told me to do. Then, when it was time to move on, the mercs picked me back up and headed out. Space gets cold, and I was something that the wouldn't be able to find anywhere else. I killed them all and spaced them. They caught me outside Lupis 5. Said only hell would do for me." She says quietly.

I keep silent, lettin' her go on. I can feel myself holdin' in the anger and pain at hearin' what she's gone through. Nobody should go through shit like that, least of all Jack. All I wanna do right now is kill someone. Anything to make myself feel better. I fuckin' left her. If I'da just taken her with me, this shit wouldn't have happened. If she'd have just stayed…I can't even finish that. Still would have been unhappy if she'da stayed, and we'd still be havin' this talk, no matter how different.

"When I got to Crematoria, Eli took me in and protected me. Only men that even tried to touch me were the guards. Nobody wanted to go up against the Gov and challenge his authority, what he had of it anyway. It was the first time in my life…that I felt like I was home." She looks at me with a tortured expression that mirrors my insides. "Pretty sick, huh? To feel at home for the first time in Slam, when I've had so many homes before…I felt at home with you, but just like everything else in my life, that was ripped from me and nothing I could do could stop it from happening."

She doesn't speak anymore, just holds herself like she's about to fall apart. I move closer to her and run my fingers along her jaw. She flinches at the touch, but doesn't try to put anymore space between us. I know I was tryin' to do the right thing, but I'm smart enough to know that sometimes tryin' and doin' ain't the same thing, and I didn't do the right thing.

"I'm sorry, Jack. I shouldn't have left you. Thought I was doin' right by you. I didn't have much of a life as a kid. I was dealt a fucked up hand and I made it into what I could live with. 'Verse is my fuckin' theme park. For that, I got mercs on my ass and I'll never have true freedom, even though I thought at first that I had it already. Thought if I could give you the chance to have a real, normal life, I'd give it. Too god damn much like me, though, Jackie-girl. Normal is never an option. Can't say that's a good thing, but I should have seen it earlier. Do you blame me for tryin' to give you what I didn't have?"

I see her thinkin' bout it. I may have needed to know what she went through, but she needed to see just why I left. Didn't leave her 'cause I wanted her off my back. Hell, never thought I could make such a connection with someone.

"I can't say that I do blame you for that, but it still doesn't make it right between us." She finally replies. She's not lookin' at me. Eyes are focused somewhere over my shoulder, avoidin' me. Fingers are still trailin' her jaw, and I move them to her chin.

"Look at me, Jack." I tell her. She looks at me and lifts her chin, her eyes all defiant.

"When are you going to hear what I'm telling you? My name isn't Jack anymore, it's Kyra." I smile a little. I know, Jackie-girl. But you know I've always loved gettin' a rise out of you. Used to be two sides playin'. Your sides been empty for a while and I gotta make up for lost time.

"Jack ain't dead to me, and I sure as hell ain't forgotten 'bout her. She's the one that got my attention, and managed to bust her fuckin' way into my affections. You can tell anyone you want what your new name is, but I'll never acknowledge it. You're _my_ Jack, and you always will be." I emphasized the 'my' before Jack, and by the stronger defiance in her eyes, I know she's caught it.

"_Your_ Jack? I can't even begin to tell you how much I'm not _your_ Jack. I haven't been _your_ Jack for years, and there is no part of me now that's _wanting_ to be _yours_ again." She snaps, pushing my hand away from her face. I close my eyes and inhale her scent, one of the few things that never lie. Antiseptic, a little blood, spices, and then…caught you Jackie-girl.

"Smellin a little heady these days, Jackie-girl. That's twice now." I grin at her as the horrified expression plagues her face.

"You've got it all wrong, Riddick. There is no way in hell—"

"We aren't in hell anymore, Jack, and scent doesn't lie. And don't even think about suggestin' that I got it wrong. Been with women for years, Jack, and there ain't nothing like that scent. Nothing to confuse it with." Blush is creepin' into her face now. Got to admit, I'm havin' more fun that I have in a while. She may hate for a little while longer, but it's all a part of the bigger plan.

See, Jack doesn't know it yet, but I've had plans for her since I saw her crouched on that rock windin' the chain up. She may not forgive me now, but she will. And she'll do it soon. Never been able to resist my presence, even as a kid. See how long she'll fight it with me really pushin' her.

_A/n: Love to hear your comments! Thanks for reading!_


	7. Chapter 4, Part 1

_**A/N: Hey, sorry it took me a little longer than usual. My internet was down for a few days and I couldn't put the chapter up. I'm sorry it's so short, as well. Special thanks to al those that reviewed!**_

_**Running-wild22: Damn straight! Resistance is always Futile when Riddick is involved! She won't last much longer.**_

_**Othgirl7, BDBlover, LostsoulX, AZTECPHENOM, Cenababy, Lillianrose4, Liasonfan2**_

_**Saismaat- Well, Riddick has to cover his butt. He's an asshole, and he just got a little mushy. Has to keep up appearances! –wink-**_

_**Anyway, I hope you all enjoy! Please let me know what you think! **_

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**Just Like Me**

**A story by Firesblood**

**Chapter 4, Part 1**

I cannot believe that asshole, then again, what more should I expect from Riddick? He opens himself a little to reveal that he does, in fact, have feelings. Then, to cover his ass he turns around with the 'if you sleep with me, it will make everything better' crap. What the _hell?_ I will say one thing, he never expected my fist to actually hit his face dead center, nor did he expect it to send him toppling to the floor. I don't think he expected me to stand up and kick him in the ribs, either. But I did both, and a little more.

"Let me—_kick_—tell you something—_kick_—Riddick, you will _never_ see what I've got. You will _never_ have—_kick_—what I've got. Do you—_kick_—know what I've got, Riddick? _Me_! Therefore, you will _never have me_!" I honestly thought he was faster than that. I smirk to myself as I slam the door to the bathroom and lock it behind me. He must be getting slow in his old age. Then again, I've been told that getting hit by me is like getting hit by a 50lb hammer at full strength. It's nice to know. Someone has to put him in his place sometime.

I sit down on the edge of the large tub. There is a loud bang on the door and I look at it.

"Open the fuckin' door, Jack!" He yells. I can tell he's pissed. I guess he doesn't like getting his ass handed to him by a girl.

"No, I think I'll keep it closed. That's five solid inches of stone metal between us, and I'd like to keep it that way, at least until you cool off. An angry Riddick is a Riddick that acts before he thinks, and I think you'd regret whatever you want to do to me right now, in the morning." My hand is screaming from the pain now that the adrenalin is wearing off and I feel tears streaming down my face.

There is silence behind the door for a moment.

"Come on, Jackie-girl. You had a hard day and you need your beauty sleep. How 'bout you come out here and we sort shit out. Don't want to go to bed angry, you know." I hear him say. His voice is low, but it is lacking in its previous seductive tones.

"No, I'd like very much to go to bed angry, Riddick, now leave me alone. You've done enough." I'm not going anywhere near that door. I look at my bandaged hand and try to flex my fingers, but I can't. I can tell it's even more swollen that it was moments ago.

You know, there was a time when I would have died for him. I even killed for him once. He was my world when I was young. I wanted to be just like him. The winner of the look-a-like contest, Paris had said. You bet. I thought that when we went to New Mecca, we would just be dumping Imam off, but when he walked away from me something ripped inside me. I wanted to kill him. I would have if I had been any sort of match against him.

I turn and stand, looking around the bathroom that could very well be the exact size of Imam's whole house. I close my eyes and ignore the pounding on the door from Riddick again, and listen for other things. As I move about the room, my fingertips barely touching the wall, I focus entirely on what I'm looking for. In places like these, believed to be invincible or not, there is always an escape route for the leader somewhere. With my luck, it will be out there with Riddick, who's currently trying to break down the door.

I halt in my search as I feel the lightest draft hit my toes. Smiling, I open my eyes and see seamless wall in front of me. Looking around, I kneel down and press my hand on the bottom of the wall, feeling the draft. There is a small crack in the floor that looks no different from the others on the floor, but at it's center is a small bit of stone metal that seems to blend in with the rest of it. I press my finger to it and a doorway opens silently.

I grin to myself and look back towards the door that Riddick is behind. I hear other voices. It seems that the all powerful Riddick has asked for help. I exit the bathroom and the door seals shut behind me without a sound. It seems Riddick isn't the only one with a knack for escape.

I make my way down a hallway, looking around at the smooth walls. I hear a crash behind the secret door and know that whoever Riddick found to break down the door succeeded. I dart into a room and the door closes behind me seamlessly as the other one had. I'm in another large room. It's dusty, so it most likely hasn't been touched in a long time.

I walk to the bed and stretch, sitting down on the dark grey coverlet, and take in my surroundings. A large wardrobe off to the side that is big enough to fit a years worth of clothing, and by that I mean, an outfit for each day.

Otherwise, the room is spartan. It reminds me of the room I had briefly at Imam's. He was forever encouraging me to decorate my room, but I just didn't want to. I had nothing, and I knew I wouldn't be staying, so there was no point. I had a bed, a chair, a view of the plaza, and a desk. That was good enough for me.

Sometime soon Riddick will find the secret door. He's much better at that stuff than I am, then again, remembering back to about an hour ago, he seemed to be losing his touch. I doubt that his lack of reaction, with exception of the cringing, was because he didn't want to hurt me. He seemed more than willing to murder me when I was safe behind the bathroom door.

I lay back and stare at the black ceiling. I _am_ tired.

There is a soft knock on the other side of this room's door and I sit up.

"Jack…Come out. Don't need to hide from me." I hear Riddick say. I frown and lay back down. Sorry, but I'm not going to fall for it, asshole.

"Why should I?" I grumble. For a moment, I feel like a sulky teenager who didn't get her way, but I remember almost as quickly that I have a very good reason to be angry.

"Come on, Jack. I won't hurt you. I admit that I might have deserved that. Shouldn't have said that crap to you. Made you uncomfortable."

I gape at the door. He did not just apologize to me, did he? _Probably just some lie to get me out of here so he can snap my neck or go for the sweet spot. _

I decide not to answer him. Instead, I curl up and close my eyes, decided that I might as well get some sleep. I haven't slept in almost four days.

It doesn't take me long to fall asleep, and when I do, shadows swim behind my eyes, and blue rain that falls thickly on me.

No light. Complete darkness except for the dark, burnt orange that lines the horizon. I've had this dream almost every night since T2. It haunts me. I can never escape it. I'm walking along the path with a bottle of Jack Daniels in my hands, and the flame that's at the mouth of it is sputtering. And then, the sounds start. The calls of the creatures as they look for the source of the blood they've pinned. My blood. One swoops down on me and I scream.

It's then that I feel arms come around me, holding me tightly.

"S'okay Jack. They can't get you." I hear. For a moment, I can't place the voice, but then I remember who it belongs to, and I feel myself relax. I feel one of the arms leave my torso and move under my legs, lifting me up. My savior has come, and I am safe now.

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_A/n: Thank you for reading! Sorry it's so short, but trust me, this could be a…pivotal chapter. –wink- She is dreaming at the end by the way. _


	8. Chapter 4, Part 2

_**A/n: Wow, I felt the love on the last chapter, lol. Thank you to Running-wild22, lillianrose4, LostsoulX, and Mordreds girl for reviewing! I'm glad you enjoyed it. Hopefully this chapter will make you all happier. It made me happier writing it! Please don't forget to tell me what you think!**_

* * *

**Just Like Me**

**Chapter 4, Part 2**

I awoke disoriented. I felt arms holding me securely and for a moment, I thought I was back on Crematoria.

"Eli…Need to move…" I groaned. My arm was asleep. There was a few seconds of silence before I heard a deep growl that did not belong to Eli. In fact, that growl was exactly what startled me into full wakefulness. I shot out of the bed quicker than I think I have ever moved and dropped into a crouch, going for a weapon that I had forgotten wasn't there.

Riddick was sitting up with a scowl on his face, his eyes narrowed and shining in the near-darkness.

"Not Eli…Jack." He growled. I glared right back at him and, still keeping my defensive stance, I stood a little straighter.

"What the _fuck_ were you doing in bed with me?" I spat out. No man entered my bed without permission, not anymore anyway. I could feel the rage in me build, and the creature called Kyra, my saving grace, reared her head. I quickly ran my hands over myself to make sure my clothing remained. I was still fully clothed. Thank whatever God there might be.

I saw his eyes narrow further to slits and I heard the bed creak slightly as he got up.

"Was tryin' to make sure you're okay. You were havin' nightmares, like old times. Was always able to calm you down. Still works. You think I'd do somethin' to you without your permission, Jack?" I might be mistaken, but I think I hear a tiny note of pain in his voice. I ignore it. Kyra is in control.

"You're a man, Riddick. In my experience, men take what they want whether it's on the woman's agenda or not. Why in the hell should I think you're any different?"

I'm up against the wall before I can even finish. I feel his breath on my face, his leg between both of mine, my arms above my head clasped in one of his hands, and then I feel the cold edge of something press against my neck. I should be scared, I know. But I'm not. I feel hysterical humor bubble in me and I start laughing. No small giggle, a full out laugh.

"Kill me Riddick. Waste the time you spent saving my ass on T2. Waste the time you spent going to and being in Crematoria. Forget about coming here for me. Wash it all out with my blood and just let it end…can't fight back if I'm dead, can I?" I manage to choke out once I calm down a tiny bit. I feel the edge bite into my skin.

"Seems remindin' you just ain't doin' the job, Jack. Maybe I should tell you who I am, 'cause you've obviously forgotten. I'm Richard B. Riddick, convict, murderer. I've got so many kills under my belt they can't even keep track any more. I've escaped slam after slam when people said it couldn't be done. Not only have I saved your ass once, but I've saved it _four_ times. I deserve a little _respect_, and if I don't get it, your ass is grass."

His tone is serious. I can hear the underlying words that he doesn't say. 'your ass is mine', it says. I smirk.

"Get your fucking blade away from me Riddick, or use it. You have five seconds…." Riddick barked a laugh and took the shiv away. I wiggle my hands out of his grasp and push him as hard as I can.

"You've told me who you are, Riddick, now let me tell you who I am, because you don't need reminding; you're completely clueless. My name is Kyra Ingram. I've been killed twice and brought back to life as something else. My first life was as a girl name Audrey Wheeler. Audrey was sweet. Audrey was shy. Audrey would have had life handed to her on a silver platter if things hadn't have gotten messed up. Audrey went to a private school and got straight A's. She was promising. She could have been anything…" I see him staring at me, his shiv pressed against his thigh as if it were stuck like glue. I've noticed this habit with Riddick. It's almost like his way of keeping control. I take a step towards him.

"But then, it was all taken away. Audrey's life was turned upside down when her mother got arrested as one of the biggest drug dealers in the country. She went from being upper middle class to sleeping on a blanket in the basement almost overnight. She was ripped from her school and her friends, and put in a place that physically and mentally abused her so badly that she couldn't even talk anymore. They didn't want her, they wanted the money that came to help take care of her. Their dogs were treated better, which is pretty damn bad considering the state of the dogs. And in the end, she was kicked to the streets with ten credits to live off of. But she got lucky and found a way out, or so she thought.

"That was when Audrey died and Jack Christofferson was born. You know who and what Jack is. You may not remember everything, but you were there for most of Jack's short, pathetic life. She ended up dying in the mining tunnels of the Draconis System." I spread my arms for effect and take another step towards him.

"That was when I was born. Let me tell you again, who I am Riddick. I am Kyra Ingram, the same Kyra Ingram that went on a killing spree. Not only have I killed 27 mercs, and so many Rykengoll and countless others that I'm probably rivaling on numbers with you. I too, am a murderer and a convict…in essence, your equal. I will never bow to you. I will never obediently do what you say. You may have saved my life on T2, but if you think about it, if you hadn't have left me on New Mecca in the first place, the subsequent times would never have happened and I wouldn't have had to go through what I did. Because of that, I will give you respect when I see fit. You do not own me, Riddick, and unless _I_ say so, you never will."

Riddick is silent and the creature in me is applauding. He's always telling me to remember who I'm talking to. It's about damn time _he_ knows who _he's_ talking too.

"I will not be disrespected or treated like some piece of ass," I added. "You may think that you're all that and a bag of chips, but lets get one thing straight…I know who and what you are. You do not scare me, and I do not like you right now. In fact, I'm pretty sure that I still hate you as much as I did when you flew away from me. So that shit you're trying to pull to get into my pants, whatever it is you're working on in that twisted mind of yours, you better stop planning. Because if the chance ever arises for you, it will be _my_ game, not yours."

I sit down on the couch and fold my hands over my stomach. Riddick doesn't say anything. Instead, he turns away and leaves the room. I grin to myself. That's two points to Kyra. I feel the remnants of Jack tug on me.

_Don't scare him away. He cares about us, Kyra. He cares about me. It's been a long time since we've had that and we should take advantage of it! You know you still like him, and you know I still love him. Please don't scare him away. I don't think I could take him leaving again._ She pleads. And for a moment, I agree with her. Maybe I do still like him. Perhaps I love him, but that doesn't mean I'm making it easy for him. Sometimes, Richard B. Riddick has to take 'no' for an answer. Besides, he's not really the type of guy to want someone submissive. Riddick needs a challenge, and I'll give it to him.

It all comes down to our favorite little game: Who's the better killer. We both have experience. I may still be a little naïve at times, but that in no way means that I'm some sort of pushover. Everything I've done, I've done to survive. _What about the mercs?_ I hear Jack again. I feel myself scowl. The mercs were to help my emotional sanity survive. Plus, they wouldn't have allowed me to survive as anything but their slave. Everything I've done, I have done to survive. You cannot argue with that. It always fits somehow.

Riddick is just like me. He kills to survive, but he enjoys it, like I do. The adrenalin rush, the thrill of the hunt and the poetic beauty of the kill. I get the deepest pleasure when I'm fighting. Maybe that's why Riddick can smell the pheromones on me when we fight. Maybe that's why I'm suddenly feeling so hot and bothered.

There is a knock on the door. I stand from my place on the couch and open the door to see The Purifier. He smiles a friendly smile.

"May I enter?" he asks. Without a word, I stand aside and close the door. He turns to me and holds up his hand. Two of my shivs are offered to me hilt first.

"I had these reclaimed from the Laina. I thought you might want them back."

I stare at my daggers for a moment then take them, slipping them into their rightful places. He digs around in his pocket and procures a linen-wrapped square that reveals my finger blades and the small black blade that I kept in my mouth. Those too go to their rightful places.

"Thank you." I say, and I truly mean it. I have not been without my weapons in a very long time and it has made me uncomfortable, especially around Riddick. It's the same basic principle as someone without a gun standing up to someone with a gun. You're lucky if you stand a chance against them.

"Yes, well. From what I hear, you are very good with them."

Flattery will get you anywhere most of the time, but it's wasted on me most of the time.

"There are a lot of people like me who are good with their choice weapon. I was defending myself." I state. He holds up his hands in surrender.

"I thought perhaps you might be hungry."

I notice that I am very hungry. I nod once and follow him out the door. He takes me to a large cafeteria and we sit down with plates of food. The fact that I have two shined eyes watching me from behind a pair of goggles is not lost on me. He thinks he's hidden from view, but I can feel him. Suddenly, an idea occurs to me. Riddick loves his mind games, and so do I. I wonder how often he falls prey to them. That and I'm in for a fight.

Smiling to myself, I look at the Purifier.

"So what is your real name?" I ask. He looks startled at the question.

"My name is of no importance. I lost the right and honor to bare it the moment I betrayed my people and beliefs for another faith that was never mine, the same faith that slaughtered my race."

I have to admit that I'm a little disappointed, but I can understand what he means. I decide not to push the issue. I pay attention instead to my food, gazing at him through the corner of my eye occasionally. Not exactly my type, but he'll do. After a moment, he sighs.

"I was born Eron Torriel." He admits. I smile and gaze at him through my lashes. I can instantly feel the 'Riddick presence' grow icy.

"Well Eron…you're really good with that mouth, I've noticed."

His eyes widen as he looks at me, and his lips moves though no sound comes forth.

"What else can you do with it?" I ask in a low voice. I'm not a sex kitten by nature, but when I want to be, I almost always get what I want. I know how to play, very well in fact. The cold presence of Riddick begins to heat up, and I can smell his sudden anger all the way to where I'm sitting. That's right Big Evil. Get mad.

The Purifier clears his throat.

"What…What are you implying?" he asks, his voice breaking comically. I reach up and drag my fingers over the side of his face with deliberate gentleness. A lover's caress.

"You know what I'm implying. I may have been in Slam with a bunch of men for a good three years, but a woman likes to be the one to ask for it occasionally, and you're just as good a specimen as any other man here. More so, in fact, than the men I've seen…" I bite my bottom lip and let my eyes roam obviously over his strangely robed figure. If the Riddick presence wasn't angry before, it certainly is now. I can feel him coiling like a tight spring. You know you want to, Big Evil. Come and get me, bitch.

"How about we quit dancing around it, and get straight to the point," I say, my hand reaching between his legs. The Purifier jumps and grips the table, his knuckles white as his eyes roll into the back of his head, his mouth open. No talent for schooling his features whatsoever. Perfect.

"I want you, right now. So why don't we get out of here, and go somewhere a little more private, and you can give me your own…_private_…speech…" I inch my hand closer to his masculinity and roll the word 'private' out in a purr. Then, with an inward Cheshire cat-like grin, I let the tip of my tongue roll upwards from his jaw to his cheek.

"Then _I_ can show you what _I_ can do with _my_ mouth…" I whisper into his ear. I hear him groan and he stands shakily from the table, looking at me with an almost desperate light in his eyes. It makes me wonder when the last time he got a little action was. It's then that I feel the Riddick-coil snap.

With a roar that echoes throughout the room, Riddick leaps from behind a pillar, shiv held high, his eyes on the Purifier. Not hiding my grin, I release my own shivs from their place and knock the smaller man out of the way, running and jumping to meet Big Evil in the air. We meet each other half way, one of his hands going around my right wrist and the other grips my hair tightly, pulling back. I realize that I have one shiv imbedded deeply into his left arm, and the other one is being held away by Riddick.

"What's the matter with you, Ricky boy? Can't handle a little competition even though I've clearly expressed my feelings for you?" I say in mock curiosity. Anger lines his face as he stares at me, his mouth set in a line. I pull the shiv out of his arm and press the tip against the underside of his neck. He jerks my head back painfully by the hair and I grit my teeth, trying to reclaim my other arm. Beside us, the Purifier is getting back to his feet, but I can't see his expression.

"Just as I thought." I wrench by right arm away from him and he pulls on my hair again, moving out of the way as I swing my shiv at him. He gets a hold of my arm again, and lets go of my hair, jerking my other arm into his hold as well. Then, before I can even try to struggle, I feel his lips cover mine. They work fiercely against mine, with a passion that only anger could offer. Sweet, beautiful, erotic anger. More surprisingly, maybe not to the remnants of Jack, I'm kissing him back. When his tongue runs over my lips, I allow him access and a new duel begins. A duel of dominance between two fevered animals, seeking to find something in the other that they have been missing almost their whole lives. Something fulfilling. Something as beautiful as what they feel when control takes a break, and something else takes over.

I can't honestly say that I expected or wanted this. I could have been happy playing the cold bitch for a while longer, but now that it's happening I really don't mind so much. I'll give him the heat right now, but tomorrow, the ice is back to chill him again.

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_A/n: Guess what happens next? -evil grin- should I, or shouldn't I? Or actually, should she, or shouldn't she? The Ultimate mind screw…_oops, sorry, I changed my mind, Riddick_._ I hope you have a lot cold water some where._ Hmmm…I kind of like that. Thank you for reading! _


	9. Chapter 4, Part 3

_**A/n: **__**Attention! EXPLICIT SEX CONTAINED WITHIN THIS CHAPTER. IF THIS OFFENDS YOU, DO NOT READ! I REPEAT, EXPLICIT SEX CONTAINED WITHIN THIS CHAPTER. IF THIS OFFENDS YOU, DO NOT READ!**__** Okay, now that that's over, Thank you Mordreds Girl, Cenababy, Runningwild22, lillianrose4, BDBlover, and Dragonmamma. **_

_**Please go easy on me as this is the first erotic scene I have ever written (and did not delete halfway through). Hope you enjoy! Please let me know what you think!**_

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**Just Like Me**

**Chapter 4, Part 3**

I felt the table behind me, biting into my back as he pushed me into it, his hands gripping my arms as he ravaged my lips.

I must admit…it does feel good. So good. But what did I tell him not an hour ago? Anything that happened would happen on my terms. And even thought I started the fight, he overstepped the line.

Thus the inward battle begins. Jack is screaming in happiness, encouraging me to keep going. Who cares that every pair of eyes in the cafeteria is watching us? Who cares that the edge of that stone metal table hurts like a bitch? All that matters is that he wants me, he's kissing me, and I have the chance to have the best sex that I've had in…well, ever, really. At least, she hopes it will be the best. No insult to Riddick, but he could be all talk, the Kyra says.

In fact, the Kyra practically roars it in anger. Sure, I'm hot and there is no denying that I want him. I can feel the tell-tale tingling at my center and the tips of my fingers are going numb. Then again, the tips of my fingers could be going numb because his grip on my arms are like twin vices cutting off my circulation.

My body, despite that most of my brain is screaming to get him the _fuck_ off, is being mutinous, and my legs come up to curl around him, pressing myself closer to him. The relief of the table edge ending it's assault on my back is noted and appreciated.

I feel him turn and walk out of the room, and I pull back, taking a deep breath for my starved lungs. I cannot believe I'm doing this. I cannot believe that I am allowing him to do this. If I let this happen, he will never take me seriously.

Jack pipes in that he probably doesn't take us seriously already, and I ignore it. She only started speaking again when Riddick walked back into my hellish world and made it worse. Now I owe him so many life debts that I'll have to come back reincarnated a few times to fulfill it. I'm beginning to think that Richard B. Riddick has a secret hero-complex.

We get to the room I just left with The Purifier, and he kicks open the heavy door, dumping me unceremoniously onto the couch. He then turns away to close the door. I stand immediately and proceed to try and ignore him, wandering into the bathroom. I close the door and look around at the assorted cupboards lined here and there.

"What are you doin' in there, Jack? Get your ass out here!" He yells at the door. I ignore him and start rummaging through cupboards. After a few minutes, I find, not exactly what I want, but close enough. Slipping the heavy, black silk strips into my pocket.

"Jack!" he bellows. I roll my eyes and open the door, finding myself face to face with a still-angry Riddick. He moves to take me in again and I push him backwards with such force that he topples backward. I don't stop there. I push him again until he's through the double doors to the bedroom. I give him one final push and he lands on the bed, growling.

I find myself growling right back, and he gets an almost surprised look on his face. I hop onto the bed, crouching over him, looking him up and down as if he's something to be purchase at a market. Slowly, I lick my lips.

He lifts his hands to grab me, and my shiv is at his throat in no time at all.

"Uh-uh, Riddick. Do you really have that short of a memory? You do _not_ touch me! Put your fucking hands down!" I yell. Grudgingly, he complies.

I reach down and yank his goggles from his head, tossing them aside.

"Now, if you want any bit of this, you'll close your eyes like a good little boy and do exactly as I say. Understood?"

Riddick tilts his head to the side, a condescending smile on his face. "Yes sir."

I let that slide. However, it's time to show him who's the new boss. There are some cultures, a great deal in fact, that worship and serve the woman of their race, and sometimes of other races. Whatever the female wants, she is catered to. She is an entity respected, feared, loved, obeyed, and cherished; basically, all the wedding vows that no man takes seriously. The women are the leaders, the decision makers. They are the backbone of society. They always get what they want, from a cold drink of water, to someone's head on a silver platter. Thy will be done. So be it. End of story.

I slip the silk from my pocket and grab his hand, winding them tightly about his wrists, and then I secure them tightly to the cold, wrought iron design at the head of the bed. I hear him growl again, a menacing, unhappy growl. That's right Riddick, you aren't in control, and you hate it.

I do the same with his feet.

"You can open your eyes now, Riddick." I tell him. His eyes open only slightly and I'm faced with a glare that would have sent anyone else running. It makes me smile, and for good measure, I lean down and pat his bald head.

"Good boy…Now, let's get a few things straight. I'm going to ask you some questions, _Big_ Evil, and if you don't answer them right, you're going to wish you had never laid eyes on me." I take on a pensive look and add, "well, more so than you do now, anyway."

Riddick's continuous deep growling was doing things to me. I could just crouch over him like this and reach my breaking point.

"Stop playin' with me, Jack…" he warns, his voice deeper. I can tell he's enjoying this. The undertone of his voice gives him away.

"Question number one, Riddick…What is my name?"

I see a brief flicker of emotion come over his face. I watch his eyes trail over my face, taking in my demeanor, and then he meets my eyes. I see something akin to defeat. He knows he can't do anything right now. He might as well humor me. He can get me later. He's probably been repeating that over and over in his head since we started.

"Kyra Ingram." He answers, his voice moping.

I nod approvingly and slip my shirt over my head, letting drop to the floor. I love not having to wear a bra. My breasts are too small for the bra to really be anything but an annoyance, and too big to not be noticed. I am rewarded with his eyes widening, and he struggles hard against his bindings.

"Question number two, Riddick…do you want to kill me right now?"

He grits his teeth, and I take the time to let my eyes travel over his body again. Yes, he's definitely enjoying this. The tent never lies.

"Yes!" he groaned as I brushed the tips of my fingers over his clothed erection. I stand straight and pull the two pins out of my hair holding it up, and it falls wildly over my shoulders. I can see myself in the mirror through the corner of my eye. I don't think I've ever looked more sexy that I do now.

"Good. I want you to feel that way. I want you to hate me so badly that you can't tell where the beginning or the end is," I take my shiv and make a cut at the top of his shirt, letting the tip knick his skin in a shallow cut. He gasps, his eyes flying open.

"Jack! The fuck was that for?" he yells and I glare, ripping his shirt down the middle. I cut the straps that still sit at his shoulders and yank the rag off of him. I toss it aside. I kneel down, letting the blade trail threateningly down his stomach. He jerks his head up to look at me.

"I'm asking the questions, Riddick. Now shut the fuck up and don't speak unless you're asked to." I stand.

"Now, Question number three…even if you had the chance, would you ever kill me?"

I see what almost looks like physical pain cross his face and he lets out an angry growl.

"_No_!" he answers.

I grin and let my pants fall to my feet. His eyes widen again, and he scents the air.

"Last question, Riddick…" this is going to be the hardest one. Lets see how long it takes before he breaks. "Do I own you?"

His eyes bulge and he starts struggling even more fiercely. I wonder if he's going to answer or not.

"Answer the question, Riddick…" I command. I slowly reach my hand between my legs and stroke myself, the feel of my fingers making me shudder. I gasp is pleasure and tilt my head back, biting my lip. He can see everything, and it's making him struggle harder. I don't think I've ever felt more wanted in my life. After a minute that seems to stretch on forever, he collapses against the bed.

"Yes! _Yes_!" he answers. It almost scares me how desperate he sounds. Then again, I'm guessing that this is the first time this has ever happened to Riddick, at least, with something he wants. I stop and cut his pants off, freeing him to the cool air. He gasps and I see a flash of gooseflesh rise on his skin at the sudden loss of clothing. I study his manhood.

He is average in length, maybe seven inches at most, but the thickness of him is…I reach my hand down and grasp him. My fingers have almost an inch between them. I stupidly wonder for a moment if he'd fit within me.

"Undo these!" he yells. I tighten my hand around him and he groans.

"The _only_ one making commands right now is me, Riddick, so shut the fuck up!"

Not being in control is wounding him. Obedience is killing him. I'm savoring every moment of it.

I lower myself to my knees and inspect him further, then, I lower my head and slowly run my tongue from the base of him to the tip. His hips jerk upward and he takes a deep breath. I smile. I grasp him in my hand and pump him slowly, my tongue teasing the head of his erection, listening to the sweet music of his torture.

Then, I release him and crawl up his body so my face is level with his. He looks up at me like a child who had his favorite candy taken from him.

I lower my face and kiss him, and then, I pull away abruptly and lower myself on him.

The stretch is painful at first, but it doesn't take very long to get used to his size. I look back down at him. His arms are straining against the bonds. He wants any measure of control he can get. I shake my head and sigh.

"Do you want to be released, Riddick?" I ask. I see his Adams apple move as he swallows.

"Yes."

I lift myself off of him and he hisses at the sudden temperature change. I untie his bonds, legs first then arms, and find myself on my back before I can even blink, his silver eyes a mere three inches from mine. My legs wrap around his hips and my hands go to his back, my nails dragging across it. He does nothing.

"Proceed." I smile. I feel him shove into me and I cry out in pain and pleasure. There is no time for adjustment. He does not go slow. In fact, his pace is fevered, passionate, and rough. I meet his thrusts with enough strength to match his and somewhere in the back of my head, I know I'm going to be bruised after this.

I feel the tingling pressure start at my center, threatening to spill over and I gasp, my breathing coming more frantic. And then, I climax with a loud cry, my nails digging into Riddick's back as my muscles flex tightly around him. His pace picks up and with a roar, he spends himself within me before collapsing onto the bed beside me.

I don't know how long we lay there trying to catch our breaths. Riddick gets up and examines the deep scratches on his back from my orgasm with a strange expression.

"Been through a lot of shit in my life, Jack, but that was the worst torture I think I've ever been through. Years made you cruel instead of just angry." He comments, looking back at me.

"Good. I've made my impression, then. Besides, I know you enjoyed every second of it."

He glares at me.

"Not every part."

I stand and go to the bathroom for a shower, but not before I turn to him.

"It's okay Riddick. I'll consider letting you be in control next time. If there's a next time. I still have to grade your performance. It's not looking good so far." And then, I turn my back on him and close and lock the door, but not before I see the vein in his forehead twitch and his fists flex. I'm a bitch. I lied. It was amazing. But he's got a big enough head already without me adding to it.

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_A/n: okay, so there it is. I honestly wasn't planning on them doing anything until a few chapters from now, but…my muse had other ideas. I read so many stories where Riddick is the dominant one. In fact, almost every single story I've read, Riddick is in control. I thought, what if control was stolen from him? And not just once, but repeatedly? What would happen if he wasn't the dominant one? Don't worry everyone, this will be fought by our Anti-hero. There is no way in hell he'd just sit back and enjoy the ride. Besides, Kyra has a little something coming to her, doesn't she? Thank you for reading! _


	10. Chapter 5, Part 1

_**A/N: I'm back with another chapter. Sorry it took me so long. I hope you like this one. Thank you to Lillianrose4, Beth Weasley, BdB Lover, Spedclass, and LiaisonFan2 for reviewing. You have no idea how good it made me feel that you liked it! So without further ado, here is the next installment. Please don't forget to let me know if you like it! **_

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Don't know why I just took it. Coulda knocked her on her ass at any moment for what she was doin' to me. One things for sure, though. Jack has got a lot of crap packed inside.

Bottlin' does shit to people. Hell, look what it did to me. Maybe that's why I let her to it. Never been one to let people walk all over me, but Jack's always been the one to do it whether I fought or not.

One of these days, and soon I'd bet, she'll break under the pressure, and it won't be no sunshiny day in the park. With her bein' so much like me, she'll snap, and it will be heard cross the 'verse, leavin' nothin' untouched.

Sure I wanted her. Still do. But I don't want this monster that I helped create. This woman who tries to keep people down. I didn't let what she said about my performance bother me. Our kind always belittles what's good. One of our only protections. Can't let nothin' affect you, or you give away everything.

I watch from my seat on the bed as she leaves the bathroom, hair fallin' in wet ringlets. She looks my way once, then pretends to ignore me. The beast roars. It doesn't care that this is Jack. All it cares about is the fact that we lost control in our own game, and it wants it back.

I stand and make my way to her as she dries off.

My hands reach for her head and my fingers touch her scalp, and draw backwards towards me. I feel the tangles in her hair pullin' against me. She stops movin'. I let my hands continue downward, barely touchin' her skin as I travel down her back. I lean forward and kiss the side of her neck.

I'm not a romantic guy. I love the feel of a woman's lips on mine, though. Haven't kissed a woman in a long time. Skin is warm 'neath me and I grip her lightly around the hips, trailin' circles at the point just above those tight, dark curls. She holds her breath.

I go further down till I reach my destination, that small nub of flesh that sends most women into a fever. Jackie-girls no different. She gasps and leans back against me as I work at her. My other hand slips between her legs and parts the slick folds, and with one finger first, it enters. Heated and wet, smells amazing. Spicy, heady scent that fills my nose and makes me feel like I've been drinkin' for hours.

"R-Riddick," I hear her stammer in a whisper. "Ple-ease…" she gasps and I smile into her hair.

"Please what?" I ask, keepin' my voice low. I move aside her hair with my chin and breathe along her neck, watchin' as the goose bumps rise. I lean in and kiss her neck. I can feel her pulse against my lips. Frantic, hard.

"Please what?" I repeat, slippin' another finger in. She jerks against me with a gasp, her good hand grippin' my arm. I close my eyes and press myself against her, knowin' just what she'll feel.

She 'mediately turns around, and buries her face in my chest.

"I'm sorry I—"

"Don't owe me nothin'. Now shut up and let me show you how it's s'posed to be."

I pick her up and bring her to the bed, layin' her down carefully. She stares at me, and somethin' strikes me as odd. What the hell happened in the past half hour for her to change from bitch in control to apologetic submissive? When she offers me a timid smile I pull away.

"Fucks goin' on, Jack? You were hatin' me not a half hour ago and I expected you to belt me as soon as I touched you."

She bites her lip. Always did that. Had me thinkin' things I was ashamed of when she was younger. Her look changes to a glare.

"Just take it, you prick. You of all people should know how hard it is to apologize."

"I'll take the damn apology, Jack, but what happened just now? Why you all the sudden so…receptive? Why did you let me touch you? Why _did_ you apologize?" I ask. She glares at me.

"Maybe I felt bad for tying you down and saying what I said to you after we were done. Maybe I just wanted to see what it felt like when I let you touch me."

I step back a little more away from her. "'Kay Jack. See, I'm startin' to get a little confused here. You hate me, but you don't hate me. You want me, but only under your say, but at the same time when I just touched you now, you didn't turn on me and yell for not askin' permission first because you wanted to see what it was like. You keep tellin' me who you are, but I just can't keep it straight. You keep fuckin' changin' on me, and it's hard to keep up. So what the fuck do you want, Jack? You want me on my knees beggin' you for forgiveness for leavin' you're ass with the Holy Man? Fine, I'll get on my fuckin' knees and apologize. You want me to not touch you unless you say I can, then I'll keep my fuckin' distance until you tell me to. But I am not some fuckin' toy you can play with or order around.

"I will admit that I want you so badly that it fuckin' hurts. Have since I saw you in Slam. But all this shit is really gettin' on my nerves, and you know that my patience only goes so far. So before I lose it, tell me what the fuck you want and stick to it."

I feel like we keep goin' over the same damn shit, just different soundin' music. She sits up, lookin' almost disappointed. Then, she gets up and passes me. Just as I thought. Don't know what she wants. Fuckin' women are all the same. S'why I stick to brothels. You don't have to know what they want, or even care.

"Know what, I'm goin' to let you think on it. I've got shit to do."

I get myself dressed and leave the room. I pass several necros on the way. They all bow and murmur crap under their breaths that sound like 'm'lord'. In any other situation, I'd be eatin this shit up like a starvin' man put in front of a buffet.

"Lord Riddick." I stop and turn. Mohawk—Vaako, gotta start rememberin' that shit, is standin' behind me.

"My Lord Riddick, there is something I wish to discuss with you in regards to the Ceremony—"

"No fuckin Ceremony."

"Pardon me?" he asks, confused.

"I said, no fuckin' ceremony. Spend that time plannin' the rest of the ride to your underverse. End of your journeys a lot fuckin' closer than you think."

Vaako's eyes widen. "But there are many planets yet that must be converted and cleansed, My Lord Marshal!"

"Ain't touchin 'em. You got more then enough half-dead fucks runnin' around here. I suggest you start settin' course for it, or you'll never see it." I tell him. Let him interpret it any way he wants. He apparently takes it very seriously and leaves. I turn and start walkin' again. Lookin' for that damned Purifier. I find him with a few women in one of the corridors talkin'.

"You!" I call, pointin' right at him. His face drops and the women scurry away.

"Yes my Lord?" he replies, straightenin' up.

"Wanna talk to you a minute." I grab his arm and direct him into an empty room.

"My Lord, if this is in regards to Kyra, let me assure you that I did not expect her t—"

"You can stop right there, Purifier. What the fuck is your name, anyway?"

He frowns at me. "Eron, My Lord."

"Eron. I'm not talkin' about what happened in the cafeteria. Jack's got a bone up her ass, and it ain't mine." He looks at me strangely at that.

"My Lord?" Fuckers confused.

"Don't fuckin' care if you understand or not. I want these fuckin' people on their way to their underverse where they can't touch no one again. Don't trust Vaako to do it, so I'm leavin' it up to you. I expect this ship to be on it's way by the end of the night."

He gives me that funny look again. "Lord Riddick, do you know what you're asking? To take these people to the underverse could spell the destruction of all other verses out there."

I cover my eyes with my hand. Keep control, Rick. Can't kill this fucker. He's already helped me some.

"What do you suggest then?"

"Destroy them." He announces darkly. This takes me back a bit.

"Destroy them?"

"Yes. Destroy them. After what they have done, they do not deserve to be rewarded." Eron states.

"And how do you propose to do that?" I ask him. Personally, I'd rather get rid of all of them too. I'm interested in what he has to say.

"The blasts that they use to destroy whole planets can be used against them. There are several trustworthy rebels on each of the ships that could be trusted to do it. All they would have to do is turn the mechanisms back on each other, we could get on the Lord Marshal's personal ship, and you could set the blasts off at a safe distance. They would never know what hit them, Lord Riddick, and we would be rid of the Necromonger scourge for good." He tells me.

"And who do you mean by 'we'?" I ask with a smile. The light immediately dies in his eyes.

"Well, My Lord, apart from the rebels that would help, and of course you and Lady Kyra, I was hoping that perhaps you would allow me to come." He tells me hopefully.

I stare at him for a minute.

"Interesting." I leave it at that. He eyes me all calculating and shit.

"Contact your rebels to start puttin' that plan into motion, but put us on track to the Underverse first." I say. Eron nods and heads for the door.

"Oh, Eron, what do you know about women?" Can't believe I'm askin' that.

"Er, Not much of anything my Lord, with exception of certain parts of the anatomy and the fact that they like gifts." He tells me. I grunt and dismiss him.

Damn woman. I wish I had the old Jack back. It was so easy when she was sane.

* * *

_A/n: well, there you go. Nothing really special, but I hoped you like it. Sorry it's so short. Thank you for reading. _


	11. Chapter 6

**_A/n: Hey everyone, sorry it took so long to update. So many things happening. I got a sudden burst of inspiration for the book my Husband and I are writing, and I had to use it or lose it. Seeing as I'd had bad writers block, I was ecstatic and ended up putting a bunch of stuff on hold. Unfortunately, writers block is back again. Happily, that means I will be working more on my fanfiction in full force. I hope you enjoy this chapter. _**

**_WARNING: EXPLICIT SEX IN THIS CHAPTER. IF YOU ARE UNDER THE AGE OF EIGHTEEN OR ARE OFFENDED BY INNAPROPRIATE CONTENT, DO NOT READ THIS CHAPTER. _**

**_Thank you to those who reviewed! I love you! Just so you know, the chapters will be split between them now. Halfway through this chapter, Jack's Point of View takes over. _**

**Just Like Me**

**Chapter 6**

When I get back to the room a few hours later, Jacks gone missin'. Her scent is all over the room, and it's strong. Pretty sure she hasn't been gone long.

I study my surroundings. Beds made. Bathroom door's open, dark beyond that. Pieces of clothing that got cut off a while ago are gone. Jack's clothes are gone.

With a sigh, I take my goggles off and lay on the bed. It's funny. You get so used to sleeping on anything from a cold stone slab, to a pilots chair, to no bed at all, and it's amazing how uncomfortable a real bed can be. Too soft, too warm, too welcoming.

Door opens and I see her walk in. Her expression is twisted into somethin' I don't quite understand. Doesn't look at me. Don't even know if she sees me.

She immediately goes to the far corner where there's a chair and sits down, pullin' her knees into her chest and restin' her head on them. She doesn't say anything.

I watch her from my place on the bed for a while before I decide to say somethin'. When I do, she starts before I can.

"I don't hate you, Riddick. I never have. I was so mad at you for so long that I thought I hated you, but I was just kidding myself. I couldn't hate you no matter how much I wanted to…" Jack whispers.

She looks up a little, eyes the only visible part of her face. Glad I got good hearing.

"I want you. I've wanted you for years. Do you know how hard it is to miss someone so much that all you want to do is escape? I really did try to forget you. And then I was so angry. So mad that you couldn't even look back at me when you were walking away, like I was just…something you could put from your mind forever and forget about…"

She sits up, her feet comin' to rest on the floor.

"I don't know who I am anymore, Riddick. I mean, I have so much crap going through my head. Voices of the person I used to be fighting the voice of the person I am now. The Jack part of me just wants to grab onto you and never let you go. But the Kyra in me is trying to fight. Trying to show who's boss and who's going to be in control. And I get so confused…" she presses her hands against her eyes, fingers knotting into her hair so tightly her knuckles turn white.

"I don't know what to do. I don't know why I did that to you. I feel like I'm grasping at the fraying edges of my life. I thought Jack was dead for good. Now she's been trying to take over ever since you came back into my life. Maybe it's Kyra's way of trying to make up for the softer times that Jack is responsible for…I don't know…I don't know what to do."

Voice is so broken that I feel my breath catch in my throat. I don't question the Kyra or Jack thing. I hear voices in my head too. I imagine people like us usually do. It would make sense that the reason for her erratic behavior is 'cause of the battle goin' on in her head.

"For starters, you can come over here with me." I offer, scootin' a little to the side to make room for her if she decides to take it.

After a second, she stands and falls in next to me, curling against my side, her bandaged hand grippin' the front of my shirt.

"I loved you so much Riddick." She whispers, barely loud enough for me to hear. A wind my arm around her shoulders and hold her close. Never been loved before. Hell, how I feel for Jack is the closest thing to love I've ever felt for someone else. Still, though, doesn't stop me from lookin' down at her with the surprise I know is there.

"Loved me?" I ask. I rub her arm a little with my thumb. She buries her head into my neck.

"Yes. I loved you. Even when I was twelve, I…I thought…I thought that maybe when I grew up a little, you would look at me different and love me back. I know it's stupid."

I frown. My chest tightens at that.

"But you don't love me anymore…" I ask. I have a hard time understandin' the nerves that just started attackin' my chest. What would she say? Should it even fuckin' matter? Why does it?

Jack is quiet for a few minutes, long enough to wonder whether she's gonna answer and long enough for me to find myself in a losin' battle with my feelings.

"I never said that."

With those four words, my heart seems to stop, and I start to wonder when I got a heart. When you're a notorious murdering convict, you tend to hear a lot of 'heartless this' and 'heartless that'. I believed it, even encouraged it. Can't find the thing that matters most if you're heartless.

"I know that the Jack part of me loves you. She always has and always will. The Kyra part is more difficult. I don't know what she feels." She says. That's familiar. Know the Rick part of me loves her. The beast part just wants to fuck her senseless.

_She is our mate_, I hear the beast in me say. _Fuck her senseless, yes. Don't mean we won't cherish her, Ricky-boy. _

I frown. Mate? What was it to decide that? Jack certainly hadn't agreed to that.

"So you do love me, still." I reply, more to myself then to her. "Interesting…"

I feel Jack look at me.

"I'll try to be nicer to you. I'm sorry." She apologizes. She's sincere, at least.

"Don't do anything you don't want to do, Jack." I warn her. Great as it would be for her to be the pleasant person she used to be, can't force her to change herself, even indirectly. She'd end up hating me more for that later.

I feel her move, her leg lifting over my body as her weight settles warmly on top of me. I feel her hot breath moving along my chest and neck, lips touchin' me almost too light to feel. One of her hands slips under my shirt, tips of her nails dragging along my skin. I groan at the touch.

"Do you know what you're doin'?" I ask.

"Yes." She says against my throat.

"You sure you want this?" Don't want her to do anything she doesn't wanna do. She kisses along my jaw, and I feel her breath on my ear. She smells so sweet.

"Yes."

* * *

He wraps an arm around my waist and turns me around, adjusting me so that I'm sitting on his lap. I reach for his shirt and pull it over his head, tossing it aside as he leans in to kiss me. The feel of his lips are amazing, and suddenly, I don't care about anything in the universe but the feel of him.

How could I have treated him like I did? I feel his tongue brush against my bottom lip and I open my mouth to allow him access. My senses are going crazy. His taste, his smell, the way his hand feels pressing me against him as his other hand is busy trying to take my clothes off and undo his pants.

His hand leaves my back and with a sound rip, I feel the air hit my back and shoulders. He stands, taking me with him, ripping the dress the rest of the way off. His hands rest tightly at my bottom, fingers coyly trailing the inside of my thighs. I spread my legs apart a little to allow him better access and he moans into my mouth, his kiss becoming harder and fevered.

I wrap my arms around his neck as he lowers us back down to the bed. His fingers prod my opening, feeling the dampness of my core. He slips them in and I gasp. I can feel the roughness of his fingers, the coolness of them, inside me, caressing me.

He breaks the kiss and continues down my jaw line and neck, pausing over my breasts. Warmth shoots from the pert nipples to my center as his tongue and teeth tease, bolts of electricity making my moan for more. His fingers are working their slow, torturous magic on me.

Then his presence is gone from my body and I feel the chill of the room. His hands, one of them slick with my essence, lifts my legs, and I feel his muscled shoulders under my knees. His breath is hot as he gently blows at the juncture between my legs. Then I feel him move, and the tip of his tongue touches me, moving in slow circles around my clit. I had received oral sex a few times in my life, twice from the mercs who used me, and once from Eli. The first times were humiliating and disgusting to me. Eli, though he tried, did not pleasure me with it. It reminded me too much of the idiots who had tried to do it to me before. This was different. The feelings coursing through me as I lifted my head to look down.

His eyes met mine, his head nestled between my thighs. To see him there at my most private and guarded of areas was enough to send me over the edge. Jack rejoiced, and for once, Kyra was in silent agreement. Something hit me then. Something that I hadn't yet accepted or understood. Riddick was back. He wanted me, as I had wanted him for those many years.

I lay back on the bed. I did love him. I had treated him horribly. He had no reason to be here; no reason to be pleasuring me when he could find someone else who wouldn't yell and belittle him. His tongue hitting the right spot interrupts my thoughts. My back arches against him and I gasp as the bolt of lightning rockets in beating waves to my center, and I begin to feel the tell-tale signs of bliss. My muscles tighten and I cry out as the explosion hits me hard, gasping for air as he works quicker than before, his fingers now pushing in and out of the flexing tightness.

It feels too good. I feel his body over me, and his mouth claims mine. I can taste myself. Thick and musky, but a little sweet, especially when mingled with him. He lifts me and walks with me to the far wall, pressing my naked and sweat-slick back against the wall. He wraps my legs around his hips and reaches down between us.

I feel the head of his shaft pressing roughly into me, thick and wonderful as my post-orgasm-tightened muscles wrap around him. His eyes roll back a little and he moans, pressing me even harder against him as I cry out.

"God, Jack…" he breathes, motionless for a short moment before pulling out almost completely. He looks up into my eyes and slams into me again, and again and again. I've never felt so full in my life. As he thrusts, I feel myself building again, and gasping for air, I dig my nails into him. I growl builds in his throat, quiet and deep at first. My muscles start to tighten and I feel him grow more swollen within me. With a scream, I fall into the utter bliss of my orgasm again. Somewhere in my pleasure-dulled mind, I hear him roar and feel the hotness of his seed spread inside of me, stinging slightly at a few of the tiny tears I know are there through his roughness.

He slides to the floor, securing me tightly in the circle of his arms, his chest rising and falling rapidly and in time with mine.

He looks down into my eyes, and I somehow know that something unspoken had just been consummated.

* * *

_A/N: Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think!_


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